Old Habits Die Hard
by ChapstickLez
Summary: "But what happened when..." A series of vignettes from the same universe as "Out With The Old," told in non-chronological order, from a variety of perspectives including Steve, Oliver, Elaine, Lily, Vivian, and John. Each chapter is a self-contained story.
1. How To Propose

_DISCLAIMER: I own nothing about Rookie Blue or the characters from the show._

 _This is different than my normal approach to writing a fic. Normally you see nothing until it's completed. In that way, I avoid most inconsistencies and run a tight ship. But then there's this, which needs a longer introduction._

 _"What I'm saying is if you do end up posting some interesting (in my mind they were more one-shot stuff) stories based on other characters in this universe(in my mind it would end up being in a Tales from Out With The Old anthology story) you should post the timeline as the first chapter in the anthology story."_

 _That's what judedeath said and it's a great idea._

 _There was a problem with a timeline. It gave away some of_ ** _these_** _stories._

 _This was originally a one shot but it became vignettes of other moments or people's lives that aren't Gail or Holly. The entire fic takes place in the same universe as "Out With The Old" and each chapter is a complete, non-sequential story. It may change your view on some things that happened in OWtO, it may explain things and other things may become way, way more confusing._

 _While this is a drama, it ranges from angst to fluff. I'll give you a timeframe reference in each chapter. Some are long, some are shorter, and they aren't all from Gail and Holly's perspective._

 _And this, by the way, is why the fic is really different. You see. It's not done. Each chapter stands alone, and I've written quite a few, but it's not done. Do you have an idea? Have you always wanted to see a specific scene?_

 _These are not 'what ifs' but all actually what happened in and around "Out With The Old" ... Think of it like clips from the director's cut. There's no use in asking "what if Gail was pregnant!" Any character is open for a chapter, even Swarek._

 _There is a timeline, by the way, up on my blog (check my profile page)._

* * *

 **Chapter 01: How To Propose**

 **Type: Drama / Romance**

 **Rating: T**

 _There's always more than two sides to a story. Steve Peck, the older brother, sees the world differently than his sister. More importantly, he sees his sister differently because he saw the way that world shaped her._

 _This story takes place between chapters 68 and 70 of_ _"_ _Out With The Old._ _"_

* * *

Steve was just over eight years older than Gail.

He knew he was the planed baby, carefully scheduled for a time when their parents were ready, when they would have no adverse impact on careers. Gail was the accident. They'd told him his mother was pregnant long after he'd figured it out for himself, but he had a memory of a prior pregnancy, one he deduced must have been a miscarriage shortly after another funeral, and at seven knew enough to keep that thought to himself.

He should have been even older than Gail. He should have been almost nine and not just eight and change. But Gail waited for no plans and obeyed no schedules, not from day one. Steve found out he had a sister when Uncle Al picked him up from school, telling him that his mother was in the hospital. Immediately, Steve thought something had happened at work. No one ever actually explained what had happened, only that baby girl Peck had been a cesarean birth and she was in the NICU. With Uncle Al, Steve looked up what all that meant and just asked when he'd get to meet his sister.

When he first saw Gail it was a month later, she was still in an incubator but they were pretty sure she'd live. That had been the first worry, that Gail wasn't going to survive. As soon as Steve met the tiny, angry, little Peck, he had laughed. He could have told them then and there that they were all wrong. Gail would live.

He saw her, he saw her scowl and heard the little wail. At the nurse's suggestion, stuck his washed and disinfected finger in the incubator, felt her grab it and heard her howl, and he laughed again and again. He loved her in that moment, not knowing what love really was, but he loved her. He knew from then on that he would always love this fierce little person. She was perfect.

And he'd lied to Holly years ago. He lied when he told her why he'd stepped away from little Gail, why he'd not been the brother she needed when their parents had been distant. Oh, how he'd lied to her. He still wasn't sure how committed Holly was to Gail at time, which was a great excuse to lie, but the truth ... The truth hurt.

He was the average one. That's what grandpa Harold said. Steve wasn't worth having his name, he wasn't clever, he wasn't sharp. Steve was dull and bland and talked too much about nothing. So Steve learned to watch and hoard secrets, to use them as currency with his parents. He kept the secret of his awesome baby sister, who came home from kindergarten one day and happily told him she could read French. Steve, at twelve, could barely read French and thought she was pulling his leg. Five year olds don't read, and they sure as hell don't read French.

Except Gail did. Steve remembered thinking it was the coolest thing ever as they read the comic book together. And he remembered the look on his parents faces. His father hadn't believed him, but his mother had this grim expression. She knew. Steve knew she knew. She warned him not to tell his father again, to let it be, and he didn't.

But weeks later he found his parents in the kitchen, staring at each other in stony silence, and Gail was hiding in the closet in his room. He sat with her, calling her his Garbage Pail until she climbed into his lap, her struggling not to cry and him telling her not to worry. He worried. That was his job, the old brother, to worry and protect her. She didn't understand why their father was mad at her and why their mother said nothing. But the only way to protect her here from the Pecks who would pick her apart for a useless skill without seeing the amazing child under it, was to pretend he didn't see it either. Give them no more weapons.

Which meant years later he lied to her girlfriend. He lied about what he remembered to protect his baby sister. Gail had survived her heart being stomped on by people over and over. First their grandfather and father, then their Peck grandmother who'd never had a nice thing to say about anyone, but especially not Gail who was obviously being picky because no one could be allergic to tomatoes. And yet it was the time he'd come to her defense before their grandfather that made him understand why he couldn't trust them, and why he had to be cautious of everyone.

Steve knew why he distanced himself from his sister. But that story was his and not Gail's and not Holly's. He might, one day, find himself telling Traci, but it seemed to be something Gail didn't remember. Or maybe she did and believed his story that the bruise on his face was from school and not their grandfather. Steve remembered it as the last time he'd been alone with Harold and, until the Perik re-trial, the last time he'd seen his mother angry.

That secret he kept. That secret would die with him. Elaine would never tell, he knew that, but she knew he knew she wouldn't tell and he knew how angry she was... And that she loved Gail. The way her eyes burned into him when he said he'd break his grandfather's hand if he tried that again. The way they both conspired to keep Gail the hell away from the other Pecks for years. But he couldn't protect her from the more casual abuse at the voice of their parents.

Somehow he'd figured out that his mother pushed her away as a last gasp, a hope that Gail would put her hooks somewhere and stand up. Because no one, no Peck, would hold her up and support her. Which meant he couldn't do it either. He couldn't catch her when she fell because they would know and judge and find insidious ways to make them pay. His cheek burned every time he thought about it. He wore the appellation of a Pale Fail. He took the hits for his sister.

Neither of them relied on anyone but themselves. They expected people to turn on them, especially Gail. Her family had, Nick had, Chris had. God, Nick. That wedding had been doomed from the moment Nick announced they were getting married and Gail looked floored. Steve had snuck into Gail's room that night, sitting with her on the bed in her plain, boring room, and told her she didn't have to do it. But they knew it was too late. The wheels were in motion.

It was a relief when Nick had vanished before the ceremony. A dick move, but a relief. After the Worst Peck Dinner Ever, Steve took Gail out on the town, gambling and drinking and going to a strip show. He almost hired a hooker but that felt like bad taste and he settled for finding someone to give her a lap dance, explaining her fiancé left her at the alter. He filed the flush on Gail's face away for later, in the folder in his mind where he kept all his information of his sister (that folder was why he was unsurprised years later when he met Holly).

At four in the morning, still drunk, they'd watched the Bellagio water show and Gail informed him she was never going to have a wedding and was never doing this again, ever, with anyone. She was never going to trust someone like that again, they only treated you like every other Peck. Then she'd slept 14 hours on the couch in his hotel room, snoring loudly.

He had forgotten she snored until Gail showed up late one night in the summer after Perik with sunken eyes, telling him she didn't want to talk. Welcoming her in, he watched as she toppled onto his couch, asleep in seconds. He'd just gotten home from his undercover op, just learned what his baby sister had been through the _month_ before, and survived one family dinner the day before. That dinner, Gail had said little, answering questions only and excusing herself early saying she was tired. Slipping upstairs after dinner, Steve had found her door locked and spoke through it, telling her he was there if she wanted to talk.

Gail did not. She refused to talk about it. She never talked to him about that night, locking her feelings away. He'd watched the vibrant little girl transform into a sullen, bitchy, and cold woman. After Perik, he watched her lock herself away. What was left of Gail would allow no one in, no one to touch her heart, and then when Nick wormed in and shattered what was left...

His poor sister.

Of course he'd lied to Holly about how Gail's intellect had terrified their parents. He'd already seen Gail's heart torn asunder when she, stupidly, destroyed her first chance with Holly. And that was after he'd seen Nick destroy her, twice, Chris, and all the other idiot men Gail had dated. They'd all wanted her to be someone other than who she was, someone kinder. But Holly just somehow managed to make Gail _be_ better without making her change. Holly never asked her to change, except perhaps to trust her.

When they'd finally learned to do that, to trust and rely on each other, Steve panicked that Holly would be scared off if he told her about the other sides of Gail. The last thing he could do to Gail was make Holly fear the blonde spitfire. His sister was so hopelessly in love with Holly, so lost for the first time, Steve would have killed himself before he fractured that.

Because finally, finally Gail found someone who saw her. Finally his sister had someone who got her, who wanted her and who loved her. Who fought for her, even when she was stupid and immature. Holly _loved_ her. And if Gail wanted to show her everything she was, even that annoying brilliance of memorization or the trained accuracy with a pistol both of them had, well, that was for her to tell Holly, not for him.

He never asked if Holly got the story about why their parents were idiots. He trusted Gail to know herself now. They would not repeat their mistakes. They would go forward, at long last, and heal and become whole. If Gail had forgotten, that was okay too. She deserved a chance to reinvent herself more than anyone.

So did their mother, come to think on it. Elaine was doing a surprisingly wonderful job of it, even if Traci was still pissed off. The glimpses of the mother he vaguely remembered filtered back when she stopped infantilizing herself and Gail and started acting straight. Suddenly she was back and bold and, weirdly, shy. And she wanted his help to talk to Gail again. To apologize.

It was probably that old memory of his mother and the other Gail that spurred him to help. He did, kind of, remember there had been a Gail Santana. She was a frequent face in photos where Elaine smiled broadly, happily, and honestly. The photos where she held the ginger baby Steve, looking at him with adoration, made him wonder what life might have been life if she'd lived. Uncle Al had doted on baby Gail more than Steve remembered being fussed over. The photos backed that up, showing Uncle Al and toddler Gail at outdoor concerts or parades.

That was a big secret. Gail used to love parades. She loved big, happy, events. She'd been a happy kid. It stopped around the time their uncle died. When they stood at the Last Call for Gary Peck, Bill's older brother, Grandpa Harold had chastised Gail for not standing straight enough. He railed into her, angry and lashing out at the young target. Steve had stood nearby while Gail took the berating in absolute silence, her lips set in a line, her face angry.

She got really good at shutting down after that, Gail did. She would clam up, tighten her face, and not engage. Sure, she picked fights, but only fights she could win. She'd berate people, to stop them from getting closer, and she was cold. Not to mention the new panic attacks about public speaking. Not to mention the panic attacks about Perik. The nightmares and the damage that Steve wasn't supposed to know about at all, but he knew the look in his sister's eyes.

The eyes had bothered him so that year after Perik. Even when Gail was with Nick again, they'd been missing the fun and vibrancy from before. No... No... That had been missing for a year before, masked with tequila and girls nights and tenuous friendships that were, at the time, surface level only. Broken hearts and bad choices. When he asked her why on earth she'd started dating Nick a second time, Gail admitted she'd been drunk and only meant for it to be a one night thing. But Nick was easy and the sex made her feel something.

He should have realized how horrible that was, he should have heard the meaning behind her words, that she was with him to at least feel _something_. But Steve had been stepping away from his sister for so long he'd forgotten what she was like and what it meant. How empty had she been? And he missed that. What an asshole, what a terrible brother he was.

When Nick broke her heart a second time, there was nothing Steve could do to help. He tried, but Gail was walled away. Gail leaned on Traci for half a year, making her first true friend in her adult life. And then Nick came back and was in love with someone else, and that was a new betrayal. And then Gail cheated on Nick. Loyal, steadfast, Gail cheated. That shattered Gail's trust in herself, burned her to the ground, and Steve worried he'd never see that smiling sister properly again.

And then Holly.

Thank god.

Someone saw her broken and damaged and angry self and liked her anyway. He knew who Dr. Stewart was and that she was a lesbian (that juicy bit of gossip spread like herpes through the station - the hottest doctor in the lab was gay). But his first glimpse of Gail and Holly was of the duo sneaking into the coat closet with a bottle of champagne. After Holly left, looking a little blissed and a lot scared, as if she'd done something stupid and brave and risky, Steve asked Traci to check on Gail, still in the closet.

If he hadn't been so busy flirting with Traci and saving the wedding from a runaway bride, maybe he would have spotted earlier how his sister was smiling that massive, toothy, smile all through the ceremony. He saw it later on candid photos from the wedding and was surprised. When he did finally catch it on her face, weeks later when she was on the phone with Holly, he'd been floored. So he had asked her what was up with the smile and she'd looked embarrassed and snapped that he should just drive them to the damn dinner. But he saw the name on her phone later at dinner: Lunchbox.

He wasn't a detective for nothing.

The moment he was 'introduced' to Holly at the hospital, he knew for sure what had happened. His baby sister was in love. There was a quietness to her introduction, to her face, when she said this was Holly. And when she'd left with Holly, only to return the following day with short hair and a curiously introspective expression. He did ask, of course, if there was something she wanted to tell him, and she'd snarled.

Gail had bite. She'd always had bite. There was an angry bite as she got older, lashing out to protect herself just as he lashed out when things went very wrong. But this was a different bite. This protection was because she had something new and different and she didn't want to share. He couldn't blame her. He'd not told her, or anyone, about Traci because of the same feelings. Not that it stopped Gail from deducing things.

She wasn't a detective for nothing either.

His baby sister was a detective now. She was in love. She was happy and as healthy as someone who was as damaged as they were could hope to be. And now, shattering everything he'd ever thought he new about her, she'd snuck in a marriage.

That blew his mind. Steve saw the ring on Holly's hand when he ran into her at the grocery store. Where Gail lied like a boss, Holly was awkward and nerdy and a little embarrassed about deception. A scientist, she liked truth and facts. It was endearing. She didn't try to hide her hand, but she didn't say anything about it. He'd asked her about how they were doing, since Gail's interview of Perik had made the rounds. After waiting a few days, he'd planned to just check in with them at home, but the store worked better,

The doctor had nodded, quickly, promising Steve that Gail really was okay. She assured him that Gail had had not been shutting herself away or freaking out. It was stressful, but they were okay right now, especially since they'd caught the copycat. As she talked to him, Holly pushed her long hair away from her face and he saw it. A simple, plain, band of gold, caught the light. And he realized that weird flush to her skin didn't match the pain or strain of Gail having had to talk with Perik. And suddenly Steve knew. Oh holy crap, he knew.

He didn't warn his mother. There was no fun in that, he felt, and he was sure that was why Gail had kept quiet. But after talking to Elaine about the upcoming trial, how she wanted to be there, and how she wanted to talk to Gail, he said he'd talk to his sister. And that wasn't going to be fun at all, even though mother was repentant and apologetic and admitted she was wrong. She was sorry. She dropped the whole childlike attitude, the infantilized way of acting, the wide-eyed faux-innocence.

So he dropped in on Gail with some Indian food as a peace offering. They sat on the rooftop deck off her offices, eating in silence, until he said that Elaine wanted to see her. She'd stared at him a while before asking why he was errand boy, and actually listening to him as he explained his conversation with their mother. She didn't answer him them, telling Steve she needed to think about it. Two days later she showed up on his floor at the end of the day and said it was alright if she came, but he'd better sit with her. That was agreed and they nodded at each other. Then he asked one word. When.

Of all the reactions he'd expected (denial, bluster, laughter, avoidance, sarcasm, etc), abashed shyness was not one. Gail looked down at her hands and told him it had been five weeks. The embarrassed smile that rippled across her face made her look young and a little goofy. Giddy. It was an expression of happiness found in an unexpected place. Just seeing that moment on Gail's face warmed him unexpectedly. It was as if he'd never noticed he'd been cold before, but now he sat by a fire and it all felt better. That was the look of a five year old who read French and who had memorized the names of every police chief in Toronto by seven. Self-satisfaction.

He saw the look again when he visited her in the hospital. The one day she agreed to spend there after breaking her ribs and knocking herself silly by blowing up her car. But he didn't see the look on Gail. He saw the look in Holly, the relief washing over her when they watched Gail complain to the nurses that she really didn't need to be there, since she was married to a doctor, thank you. It reminded him of the Gail in the incubator. That fierce tenacity to life, the fight. And with that fond look of happiness, that same goofy smile, Holly touched her hand and said her name. Just like that, Gail stopped and shyly blushed at Holly, softening herself without loosing an ounce of self.

They ignored him, or forgot about him, for the moment, sharing a private look in the midst of a noisy, public, room where nurses came and went. For Gail and Holly, there was just them for a moment, absolutely relieved that Gail was alive and would survive. The look of love was almost embarrassing to watch, as if he was privy to their greatest secrets ever, seeing things he shouldn't. That was something he'd never seen with their parents. He had no idea where Gail learned it, but something inside him, something raw and pained, was healing just to see his baby sister smile with love, awe, and a little shy wonderment that this was her world. As if, maybe, on some level she was still surprised to have Holly.

That look carried him home, to the home he shared with Traci and Leo, and he watched his girlfriend goofing around with her son. Was this what Gail felt like, looking at someone who liked her for the strange human she was? That a feeling of calmness and safety and peace was welcome and warm in her heart too? That Gail had found that moment and place first astounded him. He was older but she was always bolder. She never gave in, even though she'd allow the small losses.

Gail had tried more, lost more, and in the end she gained more. Her innocence, what was left of it by the time she joined the force, was gone before she ever met Holly. Maybe that was the trick. Maybe it was because she had nothing left and nothing to lose that she was open to the world again. Of all the things you could say about Gail, she was incredibly loyal. So loyal, she didn't want to tell anyone she'd been the one who cheated on Nick. When Steve worked that out, however, he'd been shocked that Nick had used that to leave her. That was Nick's reason, the man who'd left her twice without a word wouldn't give her a second chance.

Steve wanted to hurt Nick. But his sister did not. She just moved on and away and out and showed up at a wedding with a new friend who was smart and funny and she liked her, and Steve could fuck off. A friend who became someone Gail leaned on when she was scared after Oliver was rescued and Sam was shot. A friend who became the lover who brought his sister back to him. A friend Steve now called his sister as well.

He wanted to tell Gail how awesome she was, but she'd never take it from him. He had to leave that up to someone like Holly, the one she'd let in behind her walls. After all, he really only felt like compliments were sincere from Traci, who had an upbeat attitude about most things, drive and passion, and told you what she felt. There were no secrets from Traci. There should never be secrets. She was someone who deserved his truths and his honesty.

When Traci caught him watching her, smiling, she laughed and asked what he was thinking. The smile warmed him the same way Gail's shy one had. He saw himself reflected in his sister one way. It was logical, after all. They'd grown up mostly together. Not as close as they could have been but closer than many people thought they were. But to see himself reflected in Traci's eyes and smile, to see someone who saw him and loved him, that warmth was eternal and everlasting.

The words came out before he could process them or even think about them. They spilled from a place in his heart that the Pecks had beaten and locked away years ago. And yet they came, tiptoeing— no they _flowed_ from that hidden cave, deep within his soul, where they'd lain in wait for a century, for this one moment. This one, perfect, absolute second in the universe.

"Marry me."

* * *

 _This was something that I wrote early on, when I knew how Gail and Holly would marry and thought how Steve would take it and feel. And then I re-watched the show (thank you, ION) and saw how he acted about Bibby and Traci and thought that I should show how a Peck proposes._


	2. The End of Things

**Chapter 02: The End of Things**

 **Type: Angst / Hurt/Comfort**

 **Rating: T**

 _This answers the question of what happened to Bill Peck. If you_ _'_ _ve read the awesome fic_ _'_ _Re: Stacks_ _'_ _this is a similar idea. While this is angst, I promise Gail and Holly's relationship isn't the angst part. It ends uncomfortably, and it's supposed to.  
_

 _This story takes place about 5 years after the end of_ _"_ _Out With The Old._ _"_

* * *

The last time they'd been together and seen their father was at the MOM award. The last time she'd had a word with her father had been angry and in a hallway by her office. The last time Steve had seen the man was in an elevator, where they said nothing at all for ten floors. And now there was nothing that would be said from Bill Peck ever again.

Their father was dead.

They met outside the building, his condo. A renovated church, it was tall and the bricks were clean. It represented everything about gentrification. It was also the closest Gail had been to a church since picking up a shaking Oliver outside of one eons ago. No one had weddings in churches anymore. Chloe and Dov still weren't married, Andy's had been at the station (and she was unlikely to marry Nick at this point), Oliver's was outside, and Steve had succumbed to some odd Peck-ness and had his at a hotel.

"It's a nice building," muttered Steve, his taxi pulling away.

Gail eyed her brother. She'd driven from the station. "Really? That's what you're going to say?"

He shrugged. "What? It's a nice ... Complex. Lofts. I looked at a place here when I was trying to get Trace to move in with me."

They stared up at the building. "It is nice," she allowed. "Like my house better." She tossed her coffee cup into the trash. "Where's your partner?"

Steve shoved his hands in his pocket. "Court. Yours?"

"Told him I was going to lunch."

He nodded at her. "So you lied." She shrugged at her brother and pulled her badge out. "How'd you hear?"

"Luck, from Twenty-Seven."

They both looked at the door to the building again. "Why the hell does he live on their turf?" Steve frowned.

Gail smiled. "It's not like he worked for Fifteen anymore, Ginger."

Grunting, Steve pulled his own badge out. "Thanks for telling me, Garbage Pail."

"Fuck if I'm doing this alone."

Turning her badge over in her hand, Gail sighed and walked into the lobby. It _was_ a nice building. Gail sighed again. Today was going to be epic levels of suck. There was no uniform to stop them, so they just walked up the stairs to the top, leaving their badges on to dissuade neighbors.

As they reached the top floor, Gail held the door open for her brother. "Penthouse," she huh'ed.

Steve smirked. "Really?"

She punched his arm. They were both deflecting and hiding their emotions behind the banter. It was not a fun day. They paused and looked at the wreath on the door. "Didn't see _that_ coming," she said to Steve. "Hey, Rosati," greeted Gail.

Rosati looked surprised. "Damn, bad news travels fast," she muttered.

"We have spies everywhere," Steve drawled.

With a sigh, Rosati waved them in. Gail stepped around and looked at the body on the couch. It was just another body, she told her stomach. She'd seen hundreds before. A human being sans life. Nothing new. "What do we know?"

"Nothing. I just got here."

Of course. Gail looked over at Luck and raised her eyebrows. She'd known Luck for years now, and while her sergeant had been on Elaine's payroll, Luck was on hers. In a manner of speaking. It was the thin rainbow line which prompted Luck to call Gail right after she'd called the detectives. "Neighbor noticed the wreath." Luck flipped open her notebook. "Said he never leaves it up this long. Knocked, no answer. Called the building, they tried to open the door but it's locked and chained. Called us, I pushed it open and saw him on the couch, kicked it open."

Rosati eyed Gail. "How come you're in charge? Didn't I help you pass your exam?"

"The teacher has become the student," replied Gail, smiling thinly. She walked to the couch. "EMTs?"

"He was cold," explained Luck.

"Ain't that the truth," muttered Steve. "You call in forensics?"

"Seriously?" Rosati sounded shocked. "It looks natural-"

Steve snapped, "Call. Forensics." Touching his arm, Gail shook her head. "Just... Call it in." He turned around and walked to the fireplace, slapping the mantle.

Luck cleared her throat. "You sure?"

She stayed by the couch, looking down at the dead man. "Yeah."

"I mean... Gail it's your dad."

"Yes, yes it is," sighed Gail, pushing her hair out of her face. "This is what we do, Luck. We put on the uniform, we wear it until we don't, we die. Make sure he died naturally." She coughed a laugh. "Which is the minority for Pecks, you know."

From the fireplace, Steve laughed. "Franklin. Monroe."

Gail glanced over. "Darryl. Allison. Theo."

"Camilla. Fred."

As one they said the last name. "Harold."

The other police officers stared. "Did ... Were those all the Pecks who died of natural causes?" Luck looked shocked.

"Yep!" Gail popped the P loudly.

"But... There are like a million..." Trailing off, Luck shook her head. "Man, you had some twisted parent-" she froze and stared at Gail.

Gesturing at the man on the couch, Gail sighed. "You don't even know." She shook her head and walked to the window, sitting in it and pulling out her phone. How did someone break this to the family? Closing her eyes, Gail pressed her phone to her forehead and held the home button down. "Call Holly," she said softly and clearly.

Her wife picked up right away. "Hey, honey. Change of lunch plans? Because there's a new food truck you're going to love. Waffle sandwiches."

She could hear the smile in Holly's voice, the happy grin that wheedled Gail into doing anything. "Yeah, no. Can't do lunch. I'm with Steve at the reno'd church on Dovercourt." Gail exhaled loudly.

"What happened? You pick up a case- wait. That's Twenty-Seven's territory …" God, Holly knew her so well. She knew when Gail sounded weird and stressed.

But Gail deflected. "When did you memorize all the division hoods?"

"Around the time you mastered your medical jurisprudence," sassed Holly, laughing. "Cross division case?"

"Not exactly." Gail chewed her lip and Holly waited. "It's my ... It's Bill... It's my dad's address."

There was the briefest of pauses before Holly sucked in air through her teeth. "Oh, honey." Holly was smart. Sharp. She knew exactly what that meant. She'd lived with Gail so long, she was practically a detective herself.

"Yeah. So ... Can you make sure someone good gets this?" She shook her head. "Steve and I are here."

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Honey, of course. Do... I'll tell Viv."

"Thanks. I'll be home after they take him." Gail was quiet for a while. "I'm going to hang up."

"I love you, Gail."

"I know. I love you too." She pressed the disconnect button and exhaled. That was the easy call. Gail tapped her phone app and pressed a number on her recent calls. "Hey, Mom. It's about Dad..."

She and Steve waited until the body was taken away. As next of kin, they signed the papers and took the keys. Nothing looked untoward after all. Luck actually checked to make sure they were okay before leaving, and Gail exhaled, dropping into the easy chair.

"There aren't any photos of us," noted Steve, walking around. "No photo albums, no nothing."

Gail pressed the heels of her hand to her eye sockets. "Why are you surprised?"

There was a clank and Steve laughed. "I'm not." There was a clink of glasses and ice and Gail felt something pressed against her hand. "Drink," suggested Steve.

Moving a hand, Gail looked up at the amber liquor in the glass. She took it and sniffed. "Ah, Dad's stash. Crown Royal?"

"What else? Canadian whiskey or nothing." He sat on the coffee table. "You call Holly?"

"And Mom, yeah." She sipped the whiskey. "I hate this stuff," Gail muttered.

"Helps begin the grieving process." They shared a look and laughed. Bill had gotten drunk off his ass the night Harold died, and their mother called it that. "Traci's coming over."

Translation: Steve was going to get blitzed and make his wife drive him home. "Lucky you." Sipping the drink again, Gail regarded the ice and asked, "Was anything in the fridge?"

"Cold cuts. Salad, with tomatoes, sorry. Some bread. Usual condiments. Chinese leftovers. Beer and ginger ale." Ah yes, Peck memory training skills.

"Chinese food," announced Gail, putting her drink on the coffee table. "And please tell me Dad had Forty Creek."

"Nope! Gin, Drambui, the Crown, and rum. Lots of rum. No coke though. That's weird."

Gail popped open the fridge and pulled out the Chinese food. She opened the recycling. "Seven... Eight cans in the recyc. Should be four... Ah." Opening the pantry, she found a flat of cokes. "I knew it. _He_ was the one who never restocked the fridge!"

Her brother laughed from the living room. "Split the leftovers?"

"Screw you, you just want to get drunk." She split the food and tossed it into the microwave. "Jesus. Dad's a slob." The sink was piled up with crap. Gail grimaced and loaded the dishwasher.

"Crap taste in movies too. Kinda afraid to check his Netflix queue."

Gail snorted. "That seems unlikely. Dad mastering Netflix?" They sat down with the food and ate quietly, looking at the couch. "Wonder why he was sleeping there."

"Wonder how long he was dead for," countered Steve.

"Wonder what would have happened if it wasn't January."

"Wonder when the hell Dad starting putting up a wreath."

Gail laughed a little. "Bet that has to be from living here." She looked around. "If I was single, man, this would be a sweet place."

Her brother sighed. "What the hell are we going to do with it?" He sounded lost.

"Sell it I guess," muttered Gail. "Or rent it. Or let Leo live here." Steve laughed and suggested Vivian could live there after Leo. "Or keep it till we piss off our wives and end up some sad, sorry, sack of cops, drinking away our lives, working till we're boring white shirts with no future and no family, and we die alone. On our couch. And our kids don't even care."

Steve exhaled. "He hated my wife because she was black."

"Hated mine 'cause she was a wife."

"And brown." Steve lifted his cup. "Can't forget that."

Snorting, Gail leaned back. "She's not brown. She's Mediterranean. I'm just fluorescent."

Her brother laughed. "To the Pale Fails. Long may we reign."

* * *

They were still eating when Traci showed up. After making sure Traci was going to take Steve home, Gail took the trash out and went to her car. She knew this feeling. It was almost the same empty, unfeeling she'd had after Perik. She didn't feel anything then and she didn't feel anything now. Just ... Hollowness. By the time she got home, she didn't feel any different. Not about her father, at least.

At home, Holly was sorting out dinner with Vivian, or rather Holly was letting Vivian make meatloaf while she made a salad. "Hey," greeted Holly quietly, her eyes searching Gail's face for something. In that moment, Gail felt a surge of warmth. She felt love and concern. So the dread nothing was only about her father. Gail smiled at her wife and kissed Holly's cheek softly.

"Mom!" Vivian looked worried. At almost thirteen, Vivian had finally caught up to her age group with height, even surpassing Olivia and their friend Matty. She was tall, a little gangly at the moment, and still tan from the summer. Freckles everywhere, which Gail never got. Gail burned. Holly freckled. But Vivian didn't really look like them in her skin or hair. She moved and talked like them, but you couldn't really mistake her for their blood child if you payed attention.

"Hey, Monkey." Gail smiled. "Lemme get this stuff off and I'll help."

She was back downstairs quickly, getting a side eye from Holly. "Traci said Steve's drunk."

"Steven." Gail sighed and airily explained, "My darling brother Steven has begun the grieving process." She leaned on the kitchen island, pillowing her head on her arms. "I, however, had a shot of Crown Royal, which I don't even like, ate the old man's leftovers, and came home."

A hand ran through her hair, brushing her cowlick aside before a pair of warm lips pressed against her forehead. "I see," murmured Holly. "What did you eat?"

"Kung Pao Chicken. Chow mein noodles." The hand in her hair kept up its motion, soothing. "I called my mother."

"Is she coming over?"

"Dunno." Gail exhaled. "I have a headache."

Holly's strong, dexterous fingers moved from her hair to her shoulders, gently applying pressure. "Well. Stress will do that. I asked Carl to do the autopsy tomorrow." Mumbling a thank you, Gail tried to relax her neck.

There was a clink and Gail opened one eye to see a glass with something fizzy and a bottle of beer. "I don't know which one you want," admitted Vivian.

"Ginger ale." Gail slowly stretched her arms out, curving her back until it popped. When Holly moved back, Gail caught her waist and drew her into a hug. The warm arms wrapped around her, holding her close. Holding her safe. Vivian hovered on the edge, concerned and at a loss as to what to do, until Gail held a hand out.

The teenager muttered she was sorry and, for one of the few times ever, hugged Gail and Holly for a length of time. Teenagers were strange creatures. Vivian was no more or less strange than any other, though she'd turned very quiet and introspective over the few years they'd been a family. She held it all in, much like Gail did, but she was far more polite about it, like Holly. No one could tell them Viv wasn't theirs.

Elaine did come over, similarly shell shocked as Gail. It was just not expected. She and Gail sat beside each other on the couch, Holly in the easy chair, Vivian cross-legged on the floor, and told stories about Bill. There were good stories. Gail fondly remembered when he used to take her shooting, when he taught her to swim, and when he taught her to make donuts in a parking lot with the car.

For her part, Elaine finally told the story about how she met Bill. They'd been rookies in different divisions, chasing the same perp, and Bill had tackled the man down. As they'd skidded across the grass, Elaine had leapt over and cuffed the perp, stealing the collar from Bill. It reminded Gail of the time she and Dov had been rookies, chasing Snakeface. So upset with losing out, Bill had transferred to Fifteen out of some odd need to prove his superior skills. Of course, Elaine still had the most collars in their rookie class.

After that, the wine was brought out. Even Vivian, who was not going to school tomorrow, got a glass. They shared the story of Elaine and Bill's wedding, complete with the idiotic Peck Trials. Holly was aghast to learn Elaine had done the same insane hikes as young Gail and Steve had. Since Gail had never told Vivian about them, they had to explain all the various cop games Gail had played. Some of them Vivian knew, like 'quick, where are we?' Only Steve and Gail knew it as 'Quick, you've been shot. Where do we send backup?'

Gail had liked the memory games, she was good at them. Elaine was amused that Gail had repurposed the games, making them fun. Vivian argued they were stupid, even if she was pretty good at memorizing license plates. Naturally Elaine asked if Gail had taken Vivian on the driving course, which she had not, deferring to Holly's complaint that it was dangerous.

Her wife, daughter, and mother quickly engaged in a laughing argument about allowing Vivian to be in the car when Gail drove. They actually agreed that, for her thirteenth birthday next month, Vivian would be allowed to ride with Gail on the training course. Gail smiled and refilled the wine for everyone except Vivian, who didn't complain. Vivian was twelve, Gail reminded herself. She'd finally caught up in more than height, skipping ahead a grade and would be starting high school soon.

And Gail was 39.

She'd been a cop for 15 years.

Her father had died at just over 75. He'd been a police office for 50 years.

It really blew her mind. Unlike her mother, who had retired a decade ago, Bill stuck in his work. He took a transfer out of the city, only coming back in the last few years to work a desk at the main building. Holly had run in to him more than a few times, never talked to him, just nodding and moving on. Except for the one time he'd shown up at Fifteen, Gail had not seen him or spoke with him in years.

He never called.

She'd told him to call her if he wanted to talk. She said she'd answer.

But he never called.

Gail closed her eyes for a moment and felt Holly's hand on her arm. She signed that she was fine and felt the hand squeeze. It was a lot to take in. Gail scooted closer to the end of the couch, holding Holly's hand. When asked what she'd been thinking of, Gail rejoined the discussion by reminding her mother she'd just hit her fifteen year mark on the force, which gave Elaine pause.

"Good god," muttered Elaine. "Did you get another watch?"

The simplicity of the statement made her laugh.

Her mother spent the night in the guest room, coming with Gail to the station the next day. They both wore their badges the next day, the black band snug around them, taking Holly and Vivian to the station. Because of being a Peck, they had the right to ask any station to host the final call, but Gail said that he'd done most of his work at Fifteen. Truthfully, her support structure was at Fifteen, and she needed them today.

At morning Parade, she walked up to the front. Funny, the speaking in public fear didn't seem like such a big deal in that moment. Steve, hungover, sat at the side with his head down, Traci's hand in his own. The room was filled with White Shirts and Ds, uniforms and retired officers lining the walls and leading out the door.

Everyone knew Bill Peck. Not a damn one of them actually knew him. Neither did Gail.

"You sure, darlin'?" Oliver swallowed, looking nervous.

Gail reached over and flicked on the radio. "Dispatch, 8727. Fifteen standing by."

"Copy 8727," crackled Dispatch. "Attention all officers standby while we patch all sub-fleets for an announcement..."

She looked over at Holly and Vivian, the girl stuck to her mother's hip, tucked under Holly's arm for comfort. Holly had on a black armband, as did Vivian. When Chris had died, Holly came with Gail to his last call because she couldn't cope on her own. This time, Gail didn't need to ask. Her wife and their daughter were coming without question or doubt.

It was different than when her uncle, Bill's brother Gary, had died in the line of duty. Then Grandpa Harold had insisted ten year old Gail stand up straight and on her own. When he, in turn, had died, teenaged Gail stood practically at attention and won a nod from her father. But she was not that kind of Peck anymore. Gail took the three steps to stand with her wife and daughter, taking Holly's hand and resting her other on Vivian's shoulder as Dispatch spoke again.

"Dispatch to 612, 10-90." The room held its breath. "Dispatch to 612, Inspector Peck, 10-90." Silence. "Attention all officers. Inspector Peck, badge 612, is not answering his radio."

The radio crackled again and Oliver held it out to Gail. Steve was crying silently, their mother holding him around the shoulders, awkwardly. If Uncle Al hadn't retired the year before, he would have done this but of everyone, of all the Pecks, it fell on her. Gail pulled her hand off Vivian's shoulder and took the radio. "Dispatch," she said quietly and clearly. "8727. Show Inspector Peck, badge 612, out of service."

"10-4, 8727." There was the briefest pause, as if Dispatch was holding back her own tears. "Inspector Peck, badge 612, is out of service." The radio clicked. "Dispatch to all officers. Please observe a moment of silence for Inspector William Harold Peck, badge 612. Fifty years, three months in service of Toronto." A murmur ran through the room, prefacing the silence. People hadn't realized how long Bill had been an officer, apparently. "Dispatch to all officers. Funeral arrangements will be posted tomorrow. Thank you. Badge 612, retired."

There was a heavier silence as Oliver turned off the radio. Gail kept hold of Holly's hand while people streamed by, expressing condolences and returning to their work. The funeral wasn't until after the autopsy, which meant Gail pushed it back to Saturday. He'd be buried with all the other Pecks, like he always wanted.

"I can stay," offered Oliver.

Gail rolled her eyes. "God, why? As soon as the dog and pony show's over, I'm out of here." To the side, Steve laughed and said he was joining her. "Ollie, no one actually liked Dad. He was just a fixture."

When Oliver opened his mouth, probably to correct her, Elaine chimed in, "He had his moments, but he changed, Oliver."

"Now he's just somebody that we used to know," mused Steve.

"I swear to god, Steve, we will do an out-of-service on your ass if you start singing." Gail's bite wasn't venomous, and while much of the room looked aghast, Steve, Traci, Holly, Elaine, and Vivian all laughed. Her family laughed.

Nick didn't laugh, but he did shake his head ruefully. "Sucks," he said to her.

She nodded. "A bit."

"What's holding up the funeral?"

Gail exhaled. "Autopsy. Later today, I think. So long as nothing horrible crops up, we'll have him under on Saturday."

Wiping his face, Steve joked, "With a stake in his heart. Just in case."

"Steven," groaned Elaine. "That's for _my_ funeral."

They laughed softly, embracing the dark humor. The damned thing was, Elaine would have thought the joke funny. That day in the car when Gail said she would rather be abducted again than with her, when Bill told her not to joke about it. Elaine would have given Gail that droll look that said she wasn't that funny, while her eyes laughed. Gail caught her mother's eyes and smiled tiredly. They shared a nod and started to herd their family out.

* * *

It was a surprise to no one that the death was natural. He was over seventy. He wasn't in great health. It was expected. They agreed to box up the apartment, the condo, after the funeral. It was paid off, so no need to do anything in a rush. His own savings would pay for the maintenance for well over a year. They even had two days until the funeral, which gave Gail enough time to actually sort out her eulogy.

"Can't I just say he was an ass, we didn't talk, fuck off?" The kitchen table was littered with scraps of paper that all tried to make Bill Peck sound like a wonderful human being.

"No," laughed Holly. She was busying herself with cleaning the house, a case of displaced stress she explained. "If that's all you can come up with, honey, just don't say anything."

When Holly took the laundry back upstairs, Gail heard her call to Vivian and tell her to take her sheets downstairs. The thudding steps of their daughter in a mood prefaced her arrival in the kitchen. Vivian opened the fridge, sighed, closed it, opened the pantry, sighed again, and closed it.

Gail smiled. "What's wrong, Monkey?"

"Mom, come on. I'm not a child." She opened more cabinets, clearly unsatisfied.

She couldn't help but love that girl. "Too bad, you're always going to be my monkey."

Rolling her eyes, Vivian asked, "Don't we have anything sweet?"

"The mint Girl Guides are in the freezer. I declare today an eat your feelings day." Gail tossed her pen down. "Bring me a sleeve."

With a snort, Vivian brought two sleeves over and sat down. "Are they gonna do that for you?"

Mid-reach for her cookies, Gail frowned. "Do what?"

"The... Final call thing. I thought they only did that if you died in the line of duty." She opened her sleeve and took a cookie.

"He was a Peck," she shrugged. Actually she had argued against it, but her mother pointed out it was fair.

Vivian gestured at Gail with a cookie. "So that means you and Uncle Steve will too."

When Chris had died, five years ago, Gail and Holly listened to the final call in Oliver's office. Vivian had been at school and not told about that. She'd gone to the funeral, but this was her first final call, which made Gail wonder when she'd learned about it at all. Probably TV. Gail looked at her cookies. "Well. Yes. Probably. If we're still on the force when we die."

While Vivian stared at her cookie, Gail ate one. "Did you love him?"

"It's complicated," sighed Gail. "I did. But I'm still mad at him."

"Even though he's dead?" Vivian blinked at this revelation and frowned when Gail nodded. "You don't want to go." The little Monkey (well, not so little anymore) was always perceptive.

Gail sighed. "I don't want to give a eulogy for him. Don't care about going so much." Funerals were somewhat more tolerable than weddings, but both were bastions for fakery. "Everyone's going to be taking fake crap about how much they miss him, and how important he was, and bullshit like that. He was an asshole, he's dead, now Steve and I have to clean up his shit."

In that second, the one right after her word vomit, the mom part of Gail's brain kicked in and reminded her that her daughter once had other parents. A father who'd killed her mother, her sister, and himself, leaving it for a barely six year old to survive. Gail opened her mouth to apologize, but Vivian surprised her. "I'm glad I didn't go to the funeral," she said firmly.

She stared at her daughter. For whatever reason, conversations with Vivian rarely went the way Gail expected. "Viv-"

"No, not like that, Mom." She paused. "Well. Maybe. I don't know."

Smiling softly, Gail reached over and covered Vivian's hand with her own. "You're allowed to still be mad at him, Viv."

Her daughter nodded. "I am. I think I'll always be mad at him. But." Vivian stalled. "I don't know what I would have said."

"Oh, kiddo," sighed Gail. "You were six. They don't make kids do this."

"I won't be six when you die, Mom," she noted, grimly.

As morbid as it was, it made Gail feel warmer inside. "You actually like me, you idiot," laughed Gail.

"You liked your dad at my age." The girl was always ahead of the curve. She'd had to learn to process pain early on. Pain and disappointment. Vivian was too old for her own age in so many ways.

And in this moment, the too-old child wasn't right. Gail pressed her lips together. "When I was ten, I came in sixth in a shooting competition. Dad drove me home and didn't say _anything_ the whole ride back. He was just... This wall of disappointment." She picked up a cookie. "When we got home, I threw up and he yelled at me for how bad it was. The shoot, not the puking. Then they canceled my birthday party." She bit her mint cookie and sighed. "So no, honey. At your age I didn't like my dad very much at all."

Her daughter's eyes were wide. "Elaine let him?"

How strange it was for her child to live in a universe where Elaine was nice. "She wasn't always cool, Monkey."

Vivian looked thoughtful and leaned back. She clearly didn't believe that the grandmother who took her to musicals and shopping and shooting would let someone berate her own daughter. It made Gail remember the time the four of them had gone to see a concert and someone had made a snide remark about 'those people' when Gail had kissed Holly. She'd been late, stuck on a case, and swooped in right before curtain. Her mother and daughter had gotten quick hellos; her wife a proper kiss. And the idiot had made his comment.

Ten minutes later, with the concert actually held up, they'd had to move to other seats. The ten minutes had been filled with Elaine reading the man the riot act for being a homophobic Neanderthal, who didn't have an ounce of compassion in his body, and had no business at Vivaldi. Holly found the entire thing hilarious, laughing as they moved, even though Vivian had been mortified by the events. But her world was one where Elaine stood up for her daughter.

Vivian changed the subject. "How come you have to give the eulogy?"

"Steve's still drunk." Steve had been drunk since day one and, according to Traci, his moments of sobriety were few right now. That was why Elaine was over there, helping them out and keeping Steve a little saner.

Her brother had always been given to fits of anger in different ways. He'd taken their father's betrayal harder, more personally. At some point in the last few years, he'd spoken to Bill about things, including the fact that Steve and Traci weren't having children. Gail knew why, and so did Bill. But _he'd_ said it was a good thing not to have a bi-racial child.

Steve's anger had been thrown at Gail, thank god, not anyone else who might not understand the cause. The pain and agony of those words had sliced Steve to the bone, prompting him to lash out at blame Gail. That their father could have held it in if she'd not had to be gay. Except his words had been harsher and vile, intended to break her and bring her to the level he was at, to share his pain. It didn't work. She slapped him as hard as she could, sending him reeling back in shock. And it that was all it took for Steve to be the one who broke, sobbing. For the first time, it was Gail who held her big brother close while he raged and cried. He'd done it for her, more than once, in their youth.

Somehow Gail had gotten older, or wiser, or smarter, or luckier. Somehow in claiming to be dealing with her shit, she'd survived and done so. Somehow she'd made it through to the part of life, the part of existence where the pain other people made in you didn't matter so much. Somehow she'd become someone else. Someone better.

"Mom," whispered Vivian. There must have been something there in the look on her face, prompting Vivian up and over and to hug her.

"See, this is why you're a monkey," sighed Gail, hugging her daughter close. "It's okay, Viv." It was a lie. They both knew it. But they both accepted it.

At night, Holly distracted a quite willing Gail from all the stress and family drama in the most pleasing of ways. Gail smiled, peacefully, while Holly caressed her hair. She loved when Holly played with her hair. Much of why she kept it short was because Holly would run her hands through it, saying it calmed her. It had the same effect on Gail, often soothing her into sleep and making her relax.

She so loved how it felt to be held and touched by Holly. All the things she hated about dating men, about how they smothered and hovered and tried to protect you from yourself, was right and perfect when it was with her wife. Holly had a way of knowing when it was too much and when Gail needed something more. Maybe Holly just listened to her more, believed her more. She certainly trusted her more than Chris had, gave her second chances more than Nick had, and God, let's not think about the other boy toys.

For a moment, though, with Holly's body pressed against her, Gail thought about nothing except how incredibly lucky she was. She had that wonderful moment of blankness that came after an orgasm, where she felt so tense she thought she would snap and then it broke. It broke and she fractured into a million pieces and melted back into place, held back together by Holly's hand in hers.

This part of their life, the sex, was still so easy and so good. There had been a brief span, two years back, of the dreaded lesbian bed death. For six months, following too many cases and too much work and an assassination undercover op that worn Gail thin, they'd been more best friends than spouses. In the end, they'd been saved by Lisa, who convinced them into letting Lisa stay over to babysit Vivian for a long weekend while her moms went to the cabin. It had been very much needed and very much appreciated. The act of getting to the cabin, alone, with no children or schedule or motives other than being with each other had catapulted them back to the place where they really couldn't keep it in their pants.

Gail had sent Lisa a thank you present in the form of phone numbers of single lesbians, including a fireman, an EMT, and a high priced divorce lawyer whom Andy had rescued from an angry client. Gail ended up on the case, spending a very annoying afternoon being hit on, and finally had to tell the woman she was married. The lawyer, Kate, had eventually become Lisa's on-again/off-again quasi-girlfriend. They went out regularly in a bizarre no-strings relationship that made no sense at all to Holly, who could never contemplate more than one person at a time. But Kate stopped hitting on Gail and Lisa was happy.

So was Rachel. She'd gone ahead and adopted a baby, on her own, named Rebecca, just after her forty-third birthday. Her fathers were the epitome of doting grandparents, their hand in every pot to make sure Rebecca lacked for nothing. Gail predicted the child would grow up as the most pampered princess of them all, conspiring with Holly to make sure the girl got to see the real world like camping and cars. Lisa was a fantastic babysitter for both of them, and finally confessed to Gail that she'd been adopted as a child, so it meant a lot to her. Weirdly, Lisa had never told Holly that.

Her partner John had moved on with his life as well, not romantically but he was looking at retirement a little seriously. He was at nineteen years, after all, and the notion of staying a cop until he was fifty was less appealing than it might be. But he did love the job and, just that week, told Gail he'd stay on till at least twenty-five years. He wanted the gold watch. Of course, thinking about that brought the other work things to mind.

"Hey, busy head," murmured Holly. "You're supposed to be asleep." Her breath was warm across Gail's shoulder.

"John's sticking around another five years." The moment she said it, Gail winced.

Holly propped herself up. "Seriously?" Her voice was the dry, wry tone that warned Gail she'd be hearing about this for a while. "You just had mind-blowing sex and you're thinking about your work husband?"

Sighing, Gail looked up at her wife. "It's Lisa's fault." And she explained the thought process, much to Holly's amusement. "I _was_ thinking about sex. The sex was amazing, Holly." She reached up to caress Holly's face. "You are amazing."

With a hum, Holly turned her face into Gail's hand, smiling. "You holding up okay, honey?"

The real reason Gail's head didn't want to turn off was pretty obvious. "I think so."

Holly nodded and kissed Gail's hand before sitting up and pulling her shirt out from under her pillow. Frowning, Gail rolled after her and caught her arm. "Honey, it's late."

"Are you going in tomorrow?"

"For a bit." Holly was the Chief Medical Examiner, having stepped into the role just over a year before with panache and delight. She had a lot more busy work, but it was the job she'd wanted for years and it was position she'd groomed herself to be ready for and achieve. "Is that okay?"

With a hmm, Gail nodded. She sat up and slid an arm around Holly's waist, kissing the back of Holly's shoulder. "Thank you," she said into Holly's neck.

"Gail," sighed Holly, but she leaned back, pressing her back against Gail and giving up a little more access.

Smiling, Gail whispered, "Let me." It didn't take any more convincing. Losing herself for a while in Holly was not an antidote or palliative. It wasn't even an avoidance. In those moments it was a reminder of what they had and what they were. Gail breathed in the smell of Holly's skin and sweat. Why was someone's _sweat_ attractive? Why was the flavor so appealing and desirable?

Strangely enough it the was giving, not receiving, that quieted Gail's thoughts. Curled up against Holly, feeling their bare skin against each others, was calming. And as she listened to Holly's heart beat, it sent her into a pleased, blissful, dreamless sleep.

The next night, the night before the funeral, she didn't sleep well at all. She spent the day working with Oliver, trying to write a eulogy, distracted by friends who came by to bring food, and she'd rather have been doing anything else. Finally Gail managed to write something that didn't epically suck, just before Holly got back, and convinced her family that a nice, quiet, night was in order, early to bed.

If only that had worked. Gail had thumped into bed and fallen asleep fairly quickly. She remembered the dream that woke her. In the dream, she'd been in the car with her father, telling him she'd rather be abducted again, and he'd turned to her with an grin and said she'd deserve it. Before Dream-Gail could reply, her father morphed into Perik, who told her he'd been watching her. She turned for the door, reaching for the locks, only to find them sawed off, and shouted, rattling the door handle.

The act of the dream shout woke her. It was like when you had a dream that you were falling and woke up with the shake of the impact. She knew she made a strangled noise, feeling the yell die in her throat, but she was awake. Awesome. Gail groaned and sat up, her hands shaking a little. Careful not to wake Holly, she slipped out of bed and into the bathroom, washing her face off.

When she went back into the bedroom, she smiled at Holly. Twelve years, more or less, and the woman still would sleep in the middle of the bed. They'd ended up getting a king sized bed even before adopting Viv, in order to leave Gail some actual room in the bed, since Holly would starfish right over her half and more. In the dim light from the outside world, Gail could make out her wife's tan skin against the white sheets, and her dark hair splayed across the pillows.

There was white in her hair now, visible for everyone to see. Gail grinned, remembering the first serious grey hairs Holly had found. Now she had some sharp white showing when she had her hair back in a pony tail, and it was all over but the crying. There were more wrinkles too, laugh lines that made her even more beautiful. It was still undefinable, what drew her to Holly, but certainly the fact that she was so gorgeous did not hurt. Holly aged gracefully, psychically and mentally. She was still brilliant and nerdy and a little bit of a babbler when nervous.

Gail knew she was holding on to her youthful looks with pure luck. Her mother had a bit of plastic assistance (not as much as her creepy twin, Betty Rogers did, thank god), but Elaine had stopped dying her hair finally, letting it go grey gilt with savior-faire. Gail's hair was still dyed some shade of blonde, though the last dye job had been as part of an undercover op. She still bleached it blonde once in a while. She probably would again soon.

With a sigh, Gail collected her iPad and went downstairs to the couch. Her brain was awake and she had the feeling that any attempt to sleep again would just fall back into the nightmare cycle. She took time to type up her dream in the stupid journal. That she still kept, even though she had a new therapist who didn't think it was all that helpful. The new head doc was pretty good, however, being a little more attuned to cops and their family drama. The PTSD was as much under control as it would ever be, so keeping the family happy was more important. Using her words was important.

She wasn't surprised when was Vivian who grumbled from the stairs, "Would it kill you to turn on a light, Mom?"

"Yes, it would kill any hope of Holly sleeping." She reached up and flicked on a light. "Why are you up?"

Vivian headed straight to the kitchen, pulling out milk and cream. "Because I knew you'd be."

Frowning, Gail turned to watch her daughter. "Did you...?"

"No." Vivian shook her head firmly. Her daughter's nightmares had faded away over time, though she still hated sleepovers and tended towards mild panic attacks when she was away overnight. At her last school camping trip, Vivian had called to check in every night and morning, and clearly had not slept well while away. Gail wasn't sure she'd slept at all, the way Vivian snored for 16 hours straight after getting home. But the nightmares themselves were gone and the girl just had regular insomnia.

Gail exhaled, a little relieved, and placed her iPad on the coffee table before walking into the kitchen. "Jesus, how much food did everyone bring?"

"They know you," teased Vivian, mixing up the cocoa. "Need a shot?"

"Nah," she sighed. "God, I hope Steve sobered up. Otherwise today is going to be epic."

Snorting, Vivian put the milk away as the saucepan heated up. "I didn't think Steve drank that much."

"Well … neither did our dad," admitted Gail. She'd been the lush for the longest time. "But when _his_ dad died, he got blitzed for days. Mother called it the, ah, grieving process." It had made Gail laugh, just a little. Her daughter rolled her eyes but mixed up their drinks.

They quietly drank the cocoa, huddled in the slightly chilly kitchen. "Why doesn't Mom get up with you when you have a nightmare?" Vivian looked thoughtful as she asked.

"She usually sleeps through them." It had been a while, probably a few years, since Gail had woken up Holly with her nightmares. Sometimes she'd have them when Holly was still awake, but the violent, thrashing dreams had subsided. She could probably go through her little dream journal app and find out the last time. The app was a clever thing, hooked into the sleep monitor thingy in her watch.

"I hate that you still have 'em," grumbled Vivian.

Gail hesitated. "It's from the drugs, Viv." Her daughter looked up, surprised. "Perik shot me full of some pretty amazing psychotropics. Instead of melting a hole in my brain, they locked in part of the memory. That's the theory at least. Your Mom'd say it's hard to know for sure." There was actual damage though, visible on the brain scans. And yes, that had terrified Gail at first.

"Oh. You ... Why didn't you tell me about the drugs before?" Vivian's face was screwed up into one of thoughtful anguish.

Loading up the dishwasher, Gail shrugged. "You were six when I told you the first time, kid. And you haven't really asked about it since yours went away."

When she turned back, she found her daughter studying her face, looking for something. "So it'll never go away?"

"Hasn't yet." Gail leaned back on the counter and tilted her head. "It's gotten a lot better. They used to be any time I got stressed and messed up my sleep schedule."

Vivian nodded. "Routines help," she agreed. "I don't know if I'd rather have mine or yours..."

"I'd _rather_ have neither. At least your mom is getting some rest," sighed Gail. "Does it ... Does it scare you?"

Quickly, the girl shook her head. "No! No, it's not that. I just feel bad and I wish I could make it better."

It was impossible not to smile. "You do, Viv. You and Holly and, God don't tell him, Steve. Everyone does help." Her daughter smiled back. "Come on, let's get some sleep." She draped an arm around Vivian's shoulders as the headed to the stairs.

Vivian sighed and leaned into her as they went back upstairs. "You know I love you, Mom. Right?"

"I know, Monkey," smiled Gail, kissing her kid's forehead. "Get some sleep. We'll do pancakes in the morning."

Vivian nodded, giving Gail one more squeeze, before heading to her own bedroom. No on in the house slept with a nightlight anymore, which was a strange thought. There wasn't any magic to it either, it was just something they'd both gotten through one day. Gail did leave a nightlight on in the office, so she could easily get to the guns in an emergency, but that was just a neurotic cop's paranoia.

When she stepped into the master bedroom, Holly blearily looked up. "You okay?"

"Mm hmmm," assured Gail, slipping back into the bed.

"Cold." Holly scowled and wrapped herself around Gail to warm her up. She hated being cold in bed and felt the best way to warm it up again was body heat. It more than made up for the starfish thing.

Gail took the little spoon spot and yawned. "Sleep, baby. I love you."

A few moments later, Holly was snoring, the sound soothing Gail to a doze. She was used to the sound and feel of her wife beside her. It was one of the most wonderful things, having this beautiful woman in her life who wanted her for who she was. Smiling, Gail drifted off with that thought. The thought of being loved for being herself.

Come the morning, Gail made and ate breakfast before getting dressed in her dress uniform. Holly smoothed down her lapels, adjusting Gail's row of medals, before asking, "Is Elaine coming in uniform?"

"Probably." Gail looked at her one and a half rows of stupid medals. Thank god no one had followed up that stupid MOM award with another, but she could see it happening again. She was a Peck and their names were always shortlisted. One day she'd make an Inspector and then it would be a parade of useless awards. "Monkey, go get dressed."

Grumbling, as it was early, Vivian came back upstairs, hair in disarray and still in her sweatpants and shirt. "Moms, I need a haircut," she complained and closed her bedroom door to Gail's smirk.

"You sure it's okay for me to wear pants?" Holly hesitated at their closet. She had on some black, dress slacks, the sort she wore to court, and a dark shirt, but was dithering over the jacket. "It's just that it's a big funeral. And it will have everyone there from all the Divisions. And I know you don't care, but there's propriety and a sense of obligation to the force. They've done a lot for you. Us. All of us-"

The rambling was going to go on, so Gail leaned over to kiss her wife softly. "Calm down," she advised. Gail dusted off her hat and put it on, checking herself in the mirror. The gloves would come later. "Holly Stewart, you don't even own a dress," she teased. It wasn't true, it was just that Holly rarely wore dresses or skirts, not even to the opera. "The black suit is fine. No heels. You don't have to wear a hat." She kissed Holly again and went to check on their daughter.

Opening the door on the first knock, Vivian scowled. "Can I wear pants?"

"Sure." With Gail in uniform, all three wore slacks that day. Six, if you counted Steve, Traci, and Elaine. Seven when you added in Leo. Gail ran her hand along the painted border on the wall. Dinosaurs with capes, masks, tiaras, and a couple with cowboy hats. "You know you can repaint the room."

Vivian rustled in her closet. "Nah, I like it." There was more rustling and then she asked, "These pants okay?"

Glancing over, Gail nodded. Black slacks from something or another. "A white shirt is fine too." The girl had on a white t-shirt, but pulled on her white button down from school. They sorted out shoes, opting for black sneakers, and Gail brushed Vivian's chin length hair, clipping it out of her face.

She looked down at her daughter, studying her face thoughtfully. "You're creeping me out, Mom."

"When I'm 73, you'll be 45. That's older than I am now," she sighed.

"Not older than Mom, or Steve." Vivian looked up at her mother. If they were other people, they'd hug now. "You're not old."

"I'm almost forty, kid," laughed Gail. She took her hat off and put it on Vivian's head. "I feel old right now."

Vivian took the hat off and reached up to put it back on Gail's head. "So you're old." She tapped the badge on Gail's jacket. "You always come home, you're always safe. And, in like a million years, when you and Holly die, I'll make sure you're in some weird, biodegradable urn with a seed, plant you up by the cabin, and tell my kids about how you called her lunchbox and tried to arrest her."

It was sweet. "Maybe we didn't screw you up too much," smiled Gail, resisting the urge to ruffle her kid's hair.

"Nah, I came this way." Vivian grinned and nudged Gail out of her room. "Come on, I know you want the good coffee."

"You know me way too well, mini-human."

They met everyone else at the viewing. It was a media circus. You didn't get that many LEOs this old dying in service, not even Pecks, who tended to muster out at 40 years if they made it that long. Gail tried to think of herself at sixty-four, still a detective one might hope, serving the city. Maybe she'd be an Inspector and have Oliver's job, Inspector of Fifteen. He was handling that job wonderfully, even if he refused to wear a suit. What did people who were retired do? Her mother had found a second career, volunteering and advocating for children. But Elaine's dream of political success had never happened.

She looked over at her mother, standing with her arm around Leo's shoulders. The boy was as tall as Steve now, and at nineteen (nearly twenty), he was technically a man. Leo was studying computer engineering at UoT and building robots, much to all his parents pleasure. Even Dex, who was finally clean and stable, was involved in his life now, but it was Steve whom Leo called 'Dad.'

A hand caught her left, sliding into her grip easily. Gail knew from the touch it was Holly, the distinct calluses and grooves in her fingers were from the scalpel and other tools she used daily. She squeezed the hand and reached up to adjust her hat. As much as Gail tried to forget and ignore every funeral, this was still a process she was familiar with.

You could easily follow the rote. Someone had guarded the casket since it was set out, through the wake and viewing. They'd had an open casket, which Gail had avoided because it was fucking creepy. Of course having pallbearers she hardly knew and an armed guard and color guard with flags and everything was just over the top and disturbing. Thank god none of her friends were in the procession. They all waited at the graveside, silent, watching Gail and Steve follow behind the casket.

Steve leaned in, "Finally. Everyone's watching him."

Gail smothered her smirk. "Shut up."

They managed to get to their seats, where wives and children waited. Gail sat beside Holly, who took her hand again, her brother on the other side, and listened to the chief of police talk about her father in words that could have applied to anyone. The chief barely knew her father. But he talked all the same, about Bill's devotion and dedication and loyalty.

It was hard not to snort. The words could have been said about anyone. It was practically a Mad Libs of eulogies, just fill in the blanks and pretend you're talking deeply about someone. Possibly sensing her mood, Holly squeezed Gail's hand and leaned in, her shoulder bumping Gail's slightly. With a sigh, Gail slouched a little. This had nothing to do with her father at all. All the pomp and circumstance was greater than it had been for Jerry or Chris, which was just plain idiotic.

Her father hadn't died in the line of duty. He'd not died as a result from the two times he'd been shot. He'd died because he was in poor health, didn't watch his cholesterol, and had a heart attack. The end. But they had all the bells and whistles and media ... Gail had put her foot down on two things: firstly there was no singer, secondly there were no media morons in the area. They were allowed the long shots, but no one was going to record this procession. Sure as hell, no one was going to record her talking.

There was no way Steve was going to talk. His face was red, the unresolved anger barely in check, and the pain front and center. Gail was better at lying about her feelings. Her brother, the people person, wore his emotions on his sleeve when they overwhelmed him. She swallowed them and pretended they didn't exist.

They watched the mayor, the new mayor, talk about devotion and service. About how Bill represented policing in Toronto. About how he was a benchmark that may never be met again. Gail was pretty sure the mayor had never met him. Hell, she'd only met the current mayor once, at a Police Pride dinner. She hated those. One of Uncle Al's last actions, before retiring, was appointing her in charge of representation of LGBT on the force. It was her least favorite job, but there was a degree of glee she found in making all the other, stuck up, Pecks uncomfortable.

Finally it was Gail's turn.

When Gail stood up to the podium, she glanced at the people lined up in neat rows. Bill would have liked that, she realized. Reaching into her pocket, Gail felt for the folded papers and sighed. There was the one she'd written and shown Holly and Oliver, and then there was the one she hadn't written down but knew all the same. Everyone told her not to use this as a soapbox for her drama with her father, and she knew that was right. But she could just lie.

Carefully she smoothed out the paper and looked down.

It was always harder for those left behind. The ones who remain standing, wondering what was real and what was not. They picked up the pieces and moved on, because that's what we have to do. There isn't another choice, Gail knew. As Lily had told her once, you just kept moving forward. She swallowed and glanced at Holly, who nodded slightly.

"You knew Inspector Peck. So did I. He drove me to the station every day for the first year I was on the force. Peck Force One." There was a ripple of laughter. "He liked his world the way it was, the way it should be, the way it was supposed to be. And maybe that's why he never moved beyond Inspector. Or maybe he didn't want to. I don't know. I do know that today he joins his brother, his father, and his mother here." She glanced back at the row of headstones. "Today we bury a Peck who served Toronto to the best of his ability for fifty years. We bury my father and we're left standing."

And she lied. She left out the man she knew, or thought she knew. She talked about his career, his dedication to his job, his dedication to Toronto. But the man who stepped away from his family, who chose not to call her, who never knew her wife or their daughter, who never knew his son's wife or son... That man was not spoken about. Not here. Not today.

Then they watched as the hordes streamed by to pay respects, to salute one final time. Their friends paused only the briefest of moments, choosing instead to give their sympathy to Gail and Steve. They were the ones who would come by Gail and Holly's afterwards, for drinks and conversation.

"How did our place become the party zone?" Gail grumbled as she realized just how many people were coming by.

Holly slipped her arm through Gail's, squeezing it. "Steve and Traci have a tiny apartment, your mom has that condo and no one in their right mind would have picked that anyway, and your dad never went to the Penny."

She sighed. "For a borderline alcoholic, he sure kept his drinking at home."

A group of retired officers started making their way towards Gail. "McNally?" Holly's whisper was a surprise.

"Mmm. Yeah." Gail forced herself not to frown. "Thanks for coming," she said to Tommy McNally, pushing the lie that she actually gave a shit who came. He tossed out some equally false words of sympathy, or thereabouts, and they shook hands. "Speaking of alcoholics," she muttered to Holly once he was out of earshot.

But her wife had that thoughtful scientist face on. "I met her mom, right?"

"Andy's mom? Uh, yeah, Claire. You met her at the McSwarek wedding." From Gail's point of view, Claire wasn't half-bad a person. She was also opposed to the marriage, which had failed anyway. Tommy McNally had come to the ceremony but Gail didn't remember seeing him at the dinner.

"She had light eyes."

Gail blinked. "What?"

"Claire's eyes are hazel. That man's are blue. Andy's are brown." Holly was frowning in thought. "The odds are … 25% for that happening. And she looks _nothing_ like him. Now, it's not like eye color is the most reliable factor, since there are strong and weak colors, and some brown aspects can be recessive, but …" Turning to look at Gail, Holly asked, "Didn't you do Punnett squares in school?"

Shaking her head, Gail laughed softly, "Holly, some of us don't use our biology classes daily."

Holly was a little exasperated. "Vivian did, just last year. With the beans? Gregor Mendel?"

"And you helped her with her homework, not me," pointed out Gail, amused. "Are you trying to say that Andy's dad isn't her dad?"

Predictably, Holly gnawed on her lip. "Maybe. He was a cop?"

Oh fuck no. "Hey, nerd, if you're thinking about using our database to check her short-tandem repeats or something, take a pass. Not your business. McNally's had enough shit." Holly opened her mouth and Gail made a 'zip it' sound.

There was something incredibly comforting about her nerdy wife, though. Small moments of normal in the middle of a drama. Her brain always did that, and Gail adored her for it. "Fine," sighed Holly, looking a little embarrassed that her brain had run off like that anyway.

As the circus wrapped up, Steve took the flag and they stood, looking down at the lump of fresh earth covering their father. "He's so … peaceful," muttered Steve.

"He's six feet under," Gail pointed out.

Elaine sighed loudly. "How come Steve has the flag?"

"He lost rock-paper-scissors this morning." Gail reached up to loosen her tie, only to have her mother cough loudly. Following Elaine's gaze, she spotted the news reporters. "God I hope they don't have a directional mic…"

That brought some laughter from her immediate family. All the spouses had decided to give the three Pecks some time at the grave alone. "Any reporter with half a brain would know you didn't like him, sweetheart," Elaine said, accurately. "And I divorced him."

Steve looked thoughtful. "Did _anyone_ talk to him?" When no one answered, they laughed again. "God, I keep feeling like I'm supposed to feel bad, but I just feel … relieved. Like I don't have to worry about bumping into him and having the world's most awkward elevator ride."

Gail snorted. "Ask Holly about that. They worked in the same building the last couple years." She looked over at the car, at her wife and daughter, and exhaled. "It's weird, but I just don't _care_ about this."

"Sweetheart," whispered Elaine. "It's just overwhelming."

"No, no, Mom, I know this. Look, I didn't feel ... I didn't feel _anything_ for like a year after Perik. This isn't the same thing. This is just empty and painless." Gail slowly looked back at the grave. "He never called. He didn't even try. Not once."

Her mother touched her arm, silently apologizing for the years. Steve looked somewhat horrified. "Gail..."

"I'm just saying, Steve, I'm kinda an expert about not feeling things." Gail gestured at the grave. "When did you know, Mom?"

"After the dinner. He said... Well. It hardly matters." With a loud sigh, Elaine looked at the grave. "I looked at him and I didn't see the man I married. He wasn't the man who fought to be first, to succeed. He was ... A pale shadow of his father."

Both Steve and Gail snickered, reflexively. When their mother looked up with a question in her eyes, they said as one, "Pale Fails."

Elaine rolled her eyes. "God damn, Harold," she snarled, and it was with actual vehemence. It surprised Gail to see her mother so angry about the mess, but a little also to hear her blame their grandfather... That did make a great deal of sense. Grandpa Harold had started the whole Pale Fail thing, saying it after teenager Steve and single digits Gail had not demonstrated any great useful talent. That was not long after the stupid French incident, come to think of it.

"Boring monolingual assholes," announced Gail.

"That would be more effective if you said it in Swahilli," teased Steve.

Gail narrowed her eyes and Italian came to mind. "Non ti preoccupare la competenza non è una delle tue qualità professionali."

There was a brief pause before her mother laughed. "Steven, give up."

At least Steve laughed too. "I'm sure she just called me an idiot."

"Incompetent," corrected Gail. It wasn't really a horrible comment in Italian, but it wasn't nice.

Elaine was smiling, "I'm so very proud you two don't do that seriously."

Shaking her head, Gail said firmly, "I'm a different Peck. _We_ are different Pecks. Right, Ginger?"

"Me and you against the world, Garbage Pail." Steve extended his fist and Gail tapped her's against it. "Come on. Let's go let our friends tell us about how they're sorry."

The wake at Casa Green/Peck/Stewart (alphabetical damn it) was quiet and subdued. Most of Gail's rookie class was there, as well as their TOs. Swarek did not come. He wasn't invited. Sometimes Gail wondered if he'd leave Fifteen after everything or if he'd linger as a gargoyle, looming over everyone.

Oliver talked about how it was a changing of the guards. "Out with the old, as they say. Pricesteins are parents. McCollins are doing whatever they're doing. And ... Golly are all grown up and mature."

Gail smirked. "Only if you're comparing me to Dov am I mature," she joked. Except Dov had filled the place of Frank when they were new and, when Oliver had stepped up to be the Division Inspector, Dov was his sergeant. The official promotion to Staff Sergeant Epstein happened the same day Chloe made full detective. It was weird to see Dov in a white shirt every day.

"Little Chris is more mature than his daddy," laughed Chloe. Chloe was still taking undercover assignments, but mostly as the op runner. She was as good at that as she'd been at being undercover and everyone expected her to be point for UC in the coming years.

Looking at her now, watching Chloe hold her sleeping four year old son, Gail barely remembered the annoying Chloe she'd met. "Low bar, Princess," grinned Gail.

Chloe returned the smile in the spirit with which it was given. Most of the conversations went that way. Jokes and barbs and snide remarks. They were the ways Gail felt most comfortable with the world and her friends understood that. They were people she'd known and worked with for a decade or more. People who'd had children who were now adults or, in the case of Oliver and Celery, a surprise child whom they doted on. Four year old Jerry, only weeks younger than Little Chris, was struggling to stay awake on the couch.

Of course, Oliver was as proud of Izzy, who had her first art show. His middle daughter was about to graduate university with a degree in geology and a job offer to work in the natural gas industry. His youngest girl was 20 and had a basketball scholarship to Duke on the States. Of course, thinking about Winnie made Gail think about Sophie, also 20, and studying law at Berkley. God, the kids were growing up. She looked over at her own kid, almost thirteen and currently hanging out with Olivia, excuse me, Liv by the TV.

Why Gail never looked at Olivia and thought about Jerry was a mystery. They were just separate events for her. Gail sipped her beer thoughtfully. She could be more dispassionate, more distanced from all that now.

"Gail... Do you have a minute?" Her boss, David Butler, cleared his throat. She nodded and he looked around. "Can we...?" He gestured at the back door and Gail nodded again. Once they stepped outside, he cleared his throat again. "Listen," her boss muttered. "I know this is a bad time..."

Gail tilted her head. "Everyone knows you're retiring, David."

He looked amused. "You always know. Damn Peck spies." She smiled and sipped her beer. "I want you to take over."

That she had not anticipated. "Me?"

Butler nodded. "You. You're young enough, smart, driven. It'll be a good stepping stone for Inspector and head of Organized Crime."

It was a lot to take in. "I don't know what ... I'm not remotely ready!"

But her boss patted her shoulder. "I know. None of us are." He drained his beer. "When you get back, we'll do the formal interview. But you're who I want, Peck." And he left her to process that on the back porch.

What a fucked up and weird week, decided Gail. She sat down on the back steps to contemplate that, looking over the snow in the backyard. Detective Peck, head of Major Cases for Organized Crime... Major Cases at Fifteen. Which meant one day the three division area, including Twenty-Seven. That would be interesting. That was really daunting. Would Steve be upset that she was promoted over him or proud? That was scarier. Gail didn't want to lose the closeness she had with her brother.

The back door opened and closed and she heard footsteps. The step was familiar, a rhythm she heard daily. A moment later, a jacket was draped over her shoulders. "What did your boss want?" Holly. Of course.

Looking at her wife, she said, "To recommend me for a promotion. Head of major case squad." Holly looked stunned. "Yeah," exhaled Gail.

After some processing time, Holly voiced her opinion. "I think you could do it."

"I guess," sighed Gail, leaning against the column. "I didn't expect it. I may not get it."

"You will." Holly was smiling.

Gail snorted. "You're biased."

"Well." Holly didn't argue that at all. "Can I be a bad person?" Holly moved out onto the steps.

"Please. Bad person land is very lonely right now."

There was a laugh and Holly sat down next to Gail. "I'm glad it was Bill first."

Gail blinked. "Yeah, you know... Me too." Bill was the easy death, for all that his passing left Gail with angst and tension. Unresolved pain was more palatable than the yet unhealed agony that would be Elaine, or the heart hollowing that might be Lily or Brian. Of all their parents, Bill would be missed, but not terribly so.

"How does it feel?"

Leaning against Holly, Gail sighed. "I miss him," she told her wife quietly.

Holly's hand rested on her thigh. "What do you miss?"

"I miss... I miss my _Dad_. The guy who taught me to ride a bike and swim. He ... You know, he taught me cool stuff, like shooting and driving and ... I miss that, Holly." The tears that had been nowhere in sight for a week finally came, leaking down her face. "I miss my old Dad. He used to drive me to work, that whole first year. Every day he smiled at me and was happy to see me be a cop."

Gail wiped her face and leaned into Holly's shoulder. "So remember that, honey," suggested Holly, her voice calming and gentle.

"I _can't_ , Holly... I remember that and I just... I remember him telling me he did something wrong, that I was wrong. I ... I told him once, I'd rather be kidnapped again than work with my mom." Gratifyingly, Holly laughed darkly. She understood Gail's meaning. She always did. "I think that was the end. That was the last time..."

Her shoulders started to shake and Holly wrapped an arm around them, pulling her in close. She didn't say anything to Gail, she just held her close. There wasn't anything to say, really, and Holly seemed to know that. That was the last honest conversation with her father. How horrifying was that?

Finally Gail sighed and the tears slowed. "I'm sorry, honey," Holly whispered. And she was. She was sincere and supportive. That was much of why Gail loved her as much as she did.

"I miss him, Holly. The good him."

Holly sighed softly and nodded. "I wish I'd met that Bill."

"I wonder if I ever really knew him," whispered Gail.

"Do we ever know anyone?"

Gail coughed a laugh. "God I hope I know you."

With a matching laugh, Holly squeezed her close. "You do. That's why we can't play two truths and a lie," she teased.

"No, we can't because that game is lame, _McNally_ ," sassed Gail. "And I'm a good detective."

"Great detective."

"Thank you," Gail smiled.

"And you'll be an awesome head of Major Cases."

Sighing, Gail tugged her jacket a little tighter, hunching into it. She looked over the backyard. A house Bill had never seen. A life he'd never been involved in. A family he had no place in. Gail shivered, but it wasn't from the cold. "I don't want to be a lonely old man living in an apartment and no one knows I died."

Holly rested her head on Gail's shoulder. "You won't be. You aren't up a tree, making emergency situations, or hurting me to push me away."

That was true. "I'm scared to death. I don't know what I'm doing." She sighed softly.

"I have an Andy quote." When Gail didn't say anything, Holly went on. "Fake it till you make it."

Now Gail laughed and quoted her mother instead. "90% luck, 10% timing. Though I'm not entirely sure the timing on this was the best."

Huffing loudly, Holly's breath was warm on Gail's neck. "Our timing's always been a little off, honey. But we make it work." They both giggled.

"Shut up, Tim Gunn." She smiled, feeling safer. There was something about being with Holly that was comfortable and safe. "I always want to come home to you, Holly."

Kissing her cheek, Holly smiled back. "Then I will always be here." Holly tugged Gail's arm as she stood up. "Come on inside, honey. It's cold."

Gail looked up at her wife and smiled. She took Holly's hand and stood up, looking into the warm brown eyes. Cupping Holly's face with one hand, Gail brushed her thumb over Holly's cheekbone and lip. They kissed softly. "Okay," she sighed, resting her forehead to Holly's and breathing in her nearness for a moment longer before going inside.

There had been a hole in her heart for years.

Bill had ripped out a piece of it in the parking lot years ago. So had her mother, when they sat across a long table, talking to IA in dress uniforms. But it had started long before then, poisoning her and Steve with doubts and self-loathing. Somehow they'd managed to heal and survive as much as possible. More than one might expect. They had Traci and Holly and their friends to thank for that.

Still, in contrast to Bill, Elaine had reached out, apologized, and changed. The scar tissue was still there, the pain of distrust from her parents and what they'd done. And now with Bill gone it would never really heal. For the rest of her life, she'd wonder why her father did what he did.

But she would never know.

* * *

 _I wrote this after a friend and mentor of mine passed away in her sleep. It was days before anyone found her. While she was loved and we all knew she loved us too, it gave me an idea for what happened to Bill in the end. What happens when someone dies alone._

 _This was meant to end on an uncomfortable note (I did say it was angst and I rarely I write that). Gail_ _'_ _s feelings for this entire mess are unresolved and are likely to remain that way._


	3. Lesbian Bed Death

**Chapter 03: Lesbian Bed Death**

 **Type: Romance / Fluff(?)**

 **Rating: Almost M**

 _This was mentioned in the last chapter, a brief period where things were rough and there was a disconnect. So here's a happier, sexy times connection. It's Holly, Gail, a cottage, and some internal monologue from Holly._

 _This takes place 3 years after the end of_ _"_ _Out With The Old_ _"_ _and 2_ _before_ _the last chapter (where Bill died)._

* * *

The creaking sound of animals in snow woke her up. It was an odd noise, not at all the same as the sound of winter in the city. Gail shifted in the bed in front of her, apparently still asleep, and Holly smiled. The smooth skin on Gail's bare neck reflected the morning light, making Holly smile more. She had missed this so much. If their phones got a reliable signal, she'd text Lisa and thank her. Since all they had was the landline, it was better not to wake Gail up for that. Also it would require moving away from Gail, as the landline was downstairs and their cellphones didn't work well at the cottage, and right now Holly would vivisect anyone who moved her away from her wife.

She'd almost forgotten how wonderful it was to be awake in the quiet with Gail. Not that Gail was often quiet, but even so she knew how to appreciate the moments in life that needed reflection and peace. Here, in the fairly early morning, Gail was quiet and still and dreamy looking.

It had been a terrible half year. While the job of Medical Director wasn't functionally much different from her new one of Assistant Medical Examiner, Holly had found herself swamped with work moments after stepping into the role because everyone knew she was going to be the next Chief Medical Examiner. Research and presentations and lectures, on top of her normal load of casework, had run her ragged. And any time she wasn't working, Gail was. The blonde had been picking up more and more important cases. She and John were practically the lead detectives on every single big case that landed in their squad. Which was awesome but also draining.

Six months, they'd practically been roommates more than anything else. Roommates who loved each other, but roommates none the less. It was the dreaded lesbian bed death, where the romance was just gone. Except it really wasn't, it had just been ... It was phenomenally bad timing. Gail quipped more than once that success was 90% luck and 10% timing. They'd been short on both luck and timing lately.

Enter Lisa and her take-charge plan, sending the boring married couple up to the Peck Cottage for five days of rest, relaxation, and sex. Gail had looked offended and angry at first, but Lisa pulled her aside and suddenly the blonde was on board with the long weekend. Since Lisa had packed everything, Gail got her rifle and Holly made sure they actually had clothes to wear, but they did kiss Vivian goodbye and make the drive up in the evening, stopping only to pick up food and put chains on Holly's car.

On the way to the cottage, Holly realized exactly how tired Gail was. She'd tried to keep tabs on her wife's tendency to overwork, to prevent a burn out like had nearly happened a few years back, but this time they'd both been run thin and she'd apparently missed some signs. Unlike the last time, when Gail struggled to keep things in check, this was straightforward exhaustion. Gail had agreed to let Holly drive and fallen asleep on the drive up, which was rare, and the hollowness under her eyes was dark and noticeable, even in the evening gloom. With skin as pale as Gail's, it really didn't take much for her to look a bit tired, but now she looked like she'd gone ten rounds, and lost every one.

Holly's plan had been to send Gail to shower and sleep, but once woken up, Gail pointed out she needed to eat. She had to fuel her insane metabolism if she wanted to sleep properly. Two sandwiches later, and quite awake, they made a fire and curled up on the couch, sitting in the winter night watching the snow on the lake. Holly had her own fears about the recent quieting of their romantic life, and couldn't bring herself to voice them. She knew she still loved Gail and found her amazing and fascinating, but there were seven years between them, and sometimes it felt like a lifetime.

Desperately, Holly had wanted to know the answer to if Gail still found her attractive, but she settled for wrapping her arms around her wife and cradling Gail in her legs. "I'm psychic," announced Gail, one hand lacing the fingers with one of Holly's.

With a laugh, Holly asked, "How's that?"

"You are worried I don't think you're sexy."

Holly had to admit that was disturbingly accurate, but she frowned. "Is that what Lisa told you?"

"No, BitchTits reminded me about lbd, which I thought meant little black dress." Gail huffed a laugh and sat up, turning to look at Holly carefully. There seemed to be a hundred things on Gail's mind, a thousand words waiting to be said, or maybe only three. But she didn't say anything.

In the nighttime silence, Holly remembered that Gail was more a woman of action than words. She didn't always know how to express her feelings and she didn't often want to talk things out. Gail cupped her face with both hands, looking into Holly's eyes questioningly. "Hey," breathed Holly, softly.

Gail bit her lower lip. "I'm not good at this," she whispered.

"I know." She'd always known that Gail wasn't the talker about her feelings.

Nodding, Gail let go of Holly's face and took her hands, sitting back to study her whole face. "Do you... I know I'm not..." Gail exhaled loudly, looking horribly insecure and nervous. "When we met, I was a patrol cop. Do you... Uh... Do you still think I'm ... Am I still your type?"

Holly blinked and stared at her wife, not entirely certain she'd heard the words properly. "What?"

"I'm not in the same, you know, shape." Gail sighed loudly, clearly uncomfortable. "When we met, I was moving a lot, running around, chasing losers. And- and I know I'm still in pretty good shape. But it's different. And you liked the uniform, which I never wear anymore. And I know you said you liked the suit and the crime solving and everything but it _is_ different and—"

Pulling Gail closer, Holly kissed her. Gail never babbled like that. That was Holly's thing, to just blab everything on her brain and not think about how she was saying it. "You," Holly whispered. "You are always what I want, Gail." She hadn't thought about that at all, the idea that Gail worried Holly didn't find _her_ attractive. Who, in their right mind, wouldn't look at Gail and find her beautiful? She could be freakin' Marilyn Monroe with those looks.

Gail's eyes were half closed. "Life... Life is very strange, Holly," she said softly, her hands rubbing Holly's upper arms. "I know you love me."

Smiling, Holly kissed her again, lightly. "I really do. I was afraid ..." She stopped and saw Gail's eyes open a little more. "I was afraid you didn't think I was, um, attractive."

The look on Gail's face plainly told Holly not to be stupid. "Have you _seen_ you, Holly?"

"I have," sighed Holly. "I'm almost forty-five."

Gail snorted. "The hottest almost forty-five ever," she said firmly. Gail's fingers gripped her shoulders, holding her in place to kiss her again. "You're beautiful, Holly. I've never met anyone who looks as amazing as you. You've got runners legs that go on for days, an amazing ass, a great rack, and your neck drives me crazy."

The last one surprised her. "My neck?" Holly laughed but it faded into a soft groan as Gail started to kiss the side of her neck.

"Neck," repeated Gail. She ghosted her lips over Holly's neck and chin until they were kissing. It escalated surprisingly fast. They scooted closer, knees and thighs pushing into more sensitive places, hands finding skin under shirts. It felt good to have nothing hanging over them, no need to be quiet for fear of waking a child, no work calls possible. Just time for them and each other.

But they didn't get further than heavy petting that night. Oh, they wanted to. They pressed and rocked against each other, gasping and groaning, threatening to move beyond the couch and beyond clothes. There was just no denying the fact that they were exhausted and had been for days, however. After quite a while, one of them yawned, making the other laugh and suggest bed for sleeping. The mood wasn't destroyed, just postponed, as they paused to kiss and touch each other on the way upstairs.

They went up to the bedroom, showered, and curled up in bed. Gail had slipped into a slinky nightgown and tumbled face first into the pillow, which was adorable and hilarious. She was asleep before Holly was out of the shower, short hair pushed up making a rooster's crest and her mouth open. Poor dear. Her eyes were sunken and the circles below were dark. Gail's pale skin showed her exhaustion more obviously than Holly's, though she shared the drained feeling.

Still. After one solid night under her belt, Holly woke feeling the most rested she had in weeks, and spent her morning caressing Gail's back and shoulders. She loved the color of her hand against the nightgown and Gail's skin. Mostly the skin. How many mornings had Holly woken first and spent the time admiring the police woman's beautiful, youthful, form? Most had ended with her hands wandering and arousing Gail. When had that stopped? _Why_ had that stopped?

Well damn it, it should start again. Today she didn't have a time crunch or a deadline or any distractions. There was a beautiful woman in her bed, whom she'd kissed for hours the night before. She oozed closer, pressing against Gail's back and touching her arms and stomach. Holly slid her hand down, running it over Gail's thigh, her fingers brushing the inside skin. God, Gail's skin was so soft. It was the softness of women that told her she was a lesbian, years and years ago. She'd kissed boys, touched them (mostly) and found them seriously wanting. But girls were curvy and soft and tender, they smelled so wonderful... And Gail smelled wonderful.

Holly smiled and nuzzled Gail's neck. God she smelled great. A soft sound came from her wife, stirring slightly. The sound warmed Holly, making her blood tingle. "Morning," whispered Holly.

"What're you doing?" Gail's voice was thick, nearly slurring the words.

"Smelling you."

There was a long pause. "Nerd," muttered Gail at length.

Holly grinned and pressed her lips to the back of Gail's neck. "You're especially beautiful in the morning."

Stretching, Gail yawned. "S'been a while," she noted, leaning back and shifting her weight to give Holly more access to her neck.

"Too long," agreed Holly. She watched her hand glide over the gold nightgown. "This is not a color I'd have picked."

"S'that good or bad?" Gail was smiling, her eyes still closed but the words sounding clearer.

Against the gold, Holly's hand took on an interesting sheen. "Good. You always know what colors look right on you." She stretched her arm as far as it would reach, fingers curling at Gail's knee.

Gail sighed happily, bending her knee so Holly's hand had more freedom to traipse up and down her inner thigh. "You look great against on me," she mused.

"Charmer." Holly grinned and brushed higher, causing Gail's spine to curve and Holly's breath to stutter. She knew _she_ wasn't wearing anything under her sleep shorts, but Gail also had forsaken panties that night. Her skin flushed, feeling far, far, too hot. There was only one way the morning was going to end and the more Holly thought about it, the more she kicked herself for ever wondering or doubting.

Because as much as she wanted to touch Gail, the blonde wanted to touch her and be touched. Hands over limbs weren't enough for Gail, who rolled over and tangled their legs together. How had she gone without this feeling? Had she really just been too tired and complacent to remember how warm Gail was? How fucking stupid was she?

Thighs pressed between thighs, hands pushed shirts and nighties out of the way, just to get a little closer to some satisfaction. Gail's hands were needy, grasping the back of her shirt and pulling her closer, tighter, while fighting every inch of Holly's attempt to control and steer their direction. Where the night had ended on the couch, with hands on skin and a badly timed yawn, it carried on in the bed that morning with more skin and no yawn.

Holly pulled back slightly, hovering over Gail and smiling. The circles under Gail's eyes were still visible, dark smudges that looked like bruises, but the brightness in the eyes was bolder. The scientist in Holly filed away the look on Gail's face; the way her pupils dilated to let in more light and see more of Holly; the way her mouth opened more and her nostrils flared.

"You are so ..." Holly trailed off and kissed Gail slowly, languidly, like she had all the time in the world to savor the sensations. Then, equally slowly, she gave in to Gail's gravity, easing herself down until their bodies touched. Gail exhaled so deeply it was as if she was Atlas setting down the world. The burden on Gail's heart seemed to be lifted away by Holly's weight on her frame.

One leg hooked around Holly's leg, holding her close. "This," murmured Gail, her eyes half closed, lips curved into a smug grin. "This is right."

They kissed and touched and caressed, breathless and heady, until Gail unwrapped her leg and bent the other slightly, pushing up into Holly. For a moment, Holly forgot she wanted to touch more of Gail's skin, her body reacting on its own accord and pressing back against the thigh between her own. Her eyes squeezed closed, tight as possible and Holly had to bite her lip to not fall into a rhythm that would end too soon.

Gail had other ideas. With small, encouraging, words, Gail urged her on, rolling her hips into Holly's, guiding her with those strong, pale, fingers. When Holly complained, argued that she was going to tumble over the edge too soon, Gail found her old sass and swagger. The blonde drew Holly's head down, lips brushing the shell of her ear, whispering that they had all the time in the world, promising there would be more than one. As she spoke, Gail's leg pressed up again, making Holly shudder.

Early in their relationship, Holly had worried because she was Gail's first female lover. She'd been pleasantly surprised to learn that Gail had an insane amount of confidence when it came to sex. And all that confidence was entirely warranted and justified. Gail knew how the body worked, she knew what felt good, and she knew how to capitalize on that. She did that now.

There was a degree of control over your own life that you gave up when you hitched yourself to someone else. That had terrified Holly in the beginning. It terrified her more with Gail than anyone else because of the draw and power the blonde had on her. Gail took over her heart, swarming her fractured soul into Holly's, twisting like intangible smoke and settling in Holly's very pores. Her essence was Gail. Or maybe Gail's essence and true self was hers.

Holly forgot where she ended and Gail began. Not physically. Not really emotionally. Not mentally. She just ... There was Gail and there was Holly and there was a them that was one. A unit that was separate but together, and made greater than the sum of their parts. And God help her, she loved the moments where she could surrender herself and lose her sense of self and give up everything into the moment know Gail would catch her.

And she fell. She fell and fell and rose and fell again. Like she'd fallen the first time, looking into Gail's eyes, falling irrevocably in love. Falling forever into the arms and the heart and, yes, the damaged psyche of a woman who didn't know how to trust but who reached out and fell with her. Falling for Gail, who couldn't see how amazing she was. Falling with Gail, who gave her heart to Holly twice; a heart as fragile as spun glass and as beautiful as the Milky Way. A heart that was for her.

As her heart rate dipped back to normal, panting, feeling the world settle back into place, Holly laughed. She couldn't help it. The laughter bubbled out from some unknown home deep within her, cascading over her teeth and tongue and washing over her and her wife. And Gail, who knew Holly laughed this way from time to time, laughed with her, delighting in the moment and the feeling and the outcome.

Satisfied and feeling healed on many levels, Holly couldn't not smile as she kissed the younger woman. She didn't stop smiling until long after she dragged Gail over the precipice. And oh, she did. With her teeth and tongue heady with laughter, Holly savored Gail's skin and muscles. With greedy hands that demanded attention, Holly drew out a precious agony from every ounce of Gail's person. She pulled and pushed until finally Gail tipped over the edge freely.

Faster than she might have expected, and well before the smile faded off Holly's lips, Gail was moving. She hadn't even caught her breath before she had her hands on Holly's shirt and pushed it up and off. There needed to be more skin on skin. Holly agreed with that, but they took things slowly after the rush to remove barriers. It was as if once the skin was revealed, all they craved was to draw out every moment and every sensation. Soft skin and soft sounds and soft touches that carried them over again and again until finally the energy they'd restored overnight was gone.

Then it was quiet, both women lying on the bed. Gail rather limply, lips curved into a careless expression of pleasure, her hands drifting over Holly's back, keeping her close, keeping their bodies in contact. More awake, but not by much, Holly was content and relaxed, her head pillowed on Gail's chest.

"Wow," muttered Gail. "I'm trying to remember why I was nervous last night."

Holly laughed in surprise. "You? Nervous about sex?"

Grunting her embarrassment, Gail squeezed Holly closer. "Shut up," she deflected.

With a soft laugh, Holly closed her eyes and let the heaviness of the universe surround her and swallow her whole. Sleep came again, with uncomplicated dreams and physically healing results. She stirred later, finding the sun well up and a T-shirt pulled on, feeling perfect on multiple levels, but no beautiful blonde in the bed. The smell of coffee and something sweet drifted up the stairs.

Stretching, Holly slipped out of bed and showered, worming into her favorite cottage slouchy clothes and robe before going downstairs. Gail was perched on a stool in front of the oven with coffee and a book, stirring occasional. The sweet smell was in that saucepan and Holly kissed her wife's forehead before peeking.

"Cinnamon rolls?"

"Coffee cake," replied Gail, her hair still a bit wet and sticking up in the back. The color was lighter than natural, the honey gold hue without as much red as nature gave her. Running her fingers across the nape of Gail's neck, Holly availed herself to the coffee.

It was rich and strong, the way Holly loved her coffee, and she sipped as she watched Gail stir her sauce. The oven beeped and Gail became a flurry of motion. Out came the coffee cake and in went a tray of diced potatoes. She abandoned the book to hustle through cooking, chopping and making her messy and weirdly disorganized mise en place, prepping everything for the omelets and roasted potatoes and peppers and whatever else she had decided to make.

Holly picked up the book and, seeing it was one of Vivian's young adult novels, flipped through it until she found the chapter about the food and how the young heroine had never eaten many of the foods before. They didn't talk much until, after eating, Holly stretched out on the couch and read aloud while Gail rested her head against Holly's legs. After a short while, the weight of Gail became heavier and Holly realized she was asleep again. So she kept reading while the weak winter sun passed by, occasionally pausing to caress Gail's hair now and then.

When the sun hit her face, Gail scowled and opened her eyes. "My mortal enemy," she grumbled.

"We should probably close the blinds," smiled Holly, her fingers ruffling Gail's hair. "The sun on the snow is pretty intense."

"Did we eat all the food I cooked?"

"I don't think ' _we_ _'_ is quite accurate, Gail."

Sticking her tongue out, Gail sat up and stretched. "I take it back. The late thirties _are_ getting old."

Holly put the book down. "That was a very peculiar sleeping position," she grinned and ran her thumb down Gail's back until she felt the knot. "Stay still." Applying pressure carefully, Holly started to ease the tension out until there was a soft pop.

"Christ on a cracker," exhaled Gail. "How do you do that?" She reached back to touch her lower back.

"I'm a doctor, dumb ass." Holly raised her own arms high above her head, rolled her shoulders slightly, and was rewarded with her own pop.

Gail shook her head and got up. "When do you think you'll be Chief of Forensics?" The blonde was looking out over the lake.

"End of next year." She stretched out her legs, wishing it was summer so she could lie out and get sun on them. Gail looked surprised. "What? I've been the Assistant ME for almost four years. I was Medical Director before. I'm ready."

There was a broad smile on Gail's face. "That is so cool. Not even ten years and you did it." Holly blushed. Ages ago she told Gail her plan to be Assistant ME (or Medical Director) by 40 and the Chief ME by fifty. She was going to hit her goals and then some.

"I can't believe you find that cool," laughed Holly, embarrassed.

"Pecks always find success to be a total turn on." Gail grinned and headed to the kitchen. "I'm going to fry up those deer sausages for lunch. Want to make something vegetable?"

Holly shook her head and followed. "So we're doing _that_ kind of cottage visit," she teased. "Eat, sleep, sex." Gail laughed but didn't say anything to the contrary. "I heard there was a farmers' market, or some cool caves, nice trails. Maybe I want to go swimming. We can cut a hole in the ice. Maybe fish."

Firing up the stove, Gail mused, "No. No, if I didn't _have_ to eat food, I'd be all over you right now, Stewart." She didn't look over at Holly and just kept talking. "I already told Butler he can't run me at 100% all the time and we're talking about me taking on some administrative things. Running the show without being in the field. So between that and getting some goddamned rest, I'd like to have a little more time for this crazy, wonderful, totally incredibly weird woman who always picks me, stands up for me against my family, defends me, and ... makes me be better."

It was possibly the longest speech Gail had made about anything in quite a while. "Gail," sighed Holly.

"Hang on," interrupted Gail. "I'm not done yet." She glanced to make sure Holly was going to stay quiet. "Good. Okay so I want to spend time with you because I love you. But also because I really, _really_ , want to have sex with you. I mean, you are so beautiful, Holly, and this morning was just ... Mind-blowing. It was like the first time we had sex and you totally changed all my expectations."

There was a lengthy pause and Holly muttered, "Way to give a girl performance anxiety." But Gail always had a (justified) swagger about sex. Holly had always been a little nervous about it, lacking confidence. It wasn't that she thought she was bad at sex. Once they got into things, she was fine, but always a little worried at the start.

Not as much with Gail, mind. With Gail there was a complicated ease to being with her in the physical sense. Gail was open about what she liked, what she didn't, and wanted to know what would make Holly enjoy herself. That had been weird and wonderful to have someone so attentive and passionate about, well, her pleasure. Holly blushed a little, thinking about it. That was something else Gail didn't blush about.

"Holly. Sex with you is the best sex I've ever had. And, not to sound like a slut, I've slept with a lot of people."

"A lot of men," Holly sighed, the words popping out without much thought. She winced as soon as she said it.

Gail snorted. "I used to compare them, you know."

Blinking, Holly got out the salad greens. "Compare... The men?"

"Yep. Compared technique, who payed more attention to me, who had a better body. Thank kind of thing."

The idea that Gail rated her lovers seemed a bit ... Well it seemed like a thing Gail would do, she had to admit. "I'm supposed to ask where I rate, aren't I?"

"Mm. You don't." Gail smiled, oddly shyly.

Holly blinked again. "I don't? Are you going to quote _The Princess Bride_ at me and tell me my kisses blew it all away?"

"Don't be stupid." She rolled the sausages in their cast iron pan. "It's not a fair comparison. I liked them. But I fell in love with you before we kissed, you nerd. I just didn't know it."

Before they kissed meant before the wedding. The quiet, simple dinners and movies that two friends had enjoyed. Except, as Holly once pointed out, they were never just friends. They were always headed, inexorably, to being lovers. Holly looked down at the vegetables and greens.

"I thought we were talking about sex," she muttered to Gail.

Gail chuckled. "We are."

Holly shook her head. "You've lost me." She startled when Gail's hands were on her waist all of the sudden, lips on the base of her jaw. Her body shuddered.

"That," whispered Gail. "You do that to me, just holding my hand or looking at me. I look at you and I just burn."

Her heart was overflowing with every puff of breath across her neck. "Don't burn our sausages, Gail," she sighed.

With a snort, Gail kissed her neck and went back to the oven. "You're right for me. There's no point to try and compare you with anyone. I'm in love with you."

"You are very odd, Gail Peck."

"You proposed."

She smiled at Gail. "You said yes."

Gail shrugged. "You want to share an urn with me."

"Biodegradable," corrected Holly. "Plant a little tree over it out back here? Eternal symbol of us."

" _That_ is incredible cheesy." They both laughed however.

After lunch (or early dinner, depending on your point of view) they brought a wool blanket out and snuggled inside in the warm sun that fought through the winter skies. Gail relaxed, napping most of the time, and Holly was relieved to see the dark circles fading as she rested. And, as Holly had joked, there was definitely more sex. No one was around for miles, making it wonderfully private and quiet, and Gail was perfectly willing to try out one of Holly's fantasies. Sadly it was deemed too cold to try the rowboat. They settled for some serious making out after a morning snow hike.

The last night up at the cottage was spent on their balcony off the bedroom. No music to be heard, they listened to the sounds of the winter predators and owls, comfortable on the double wide lounger Holly's parents had sent them a few birthdays ago. Gail loved it because it was big enough to cuddle on. Holly liked the cushions.

That night, Holly rested in the crook of Gail's arm, looking up at the night sky with all the house lights off. It was freezing, so they had the thick wool blanket wrapped around them and Gail had a toque pulled down tight over her ears.

"When its darkest out, you can see the stars," murmured Gail, her fingers caressing Holly's forehead, brushing the hair out of the way.

"Poetic."

"Chris told me that, when we we looking for Oliver." She paused. "He was talking about you. I met you in the darkest part of my life."

Holly tilted her head back. "That was the darkest part of your life?"

Nodding, Gail explained, "That was when I interviewed Perik, lost Nick, and ... I stopped caring. I made it through the storm but..."

"Only you remained. Alone."

"Yeah," breathed Gail. "But you get me. You're the most precious gift, Holly."

She smiled. "It goes both ways. I was pretty sure I was just going to be a workaholic. But I tried one new thing and you changed my life."

"Dancing the Macarena was not a new thing." Gail laughed softly. "And from what Lisa tells me, kissing your straight friends wasn't new either."

"Damn it, BitchTits... Just when I was about to thank her for this weekend, you had to remind me why I hate her sometimes." They both laughed, brightly, at the thought. Lisa was a wonderful and terrible person after all. "You're all sappy and romantic right now. What brought this on?"

Gail exhaled slowly. "I don't know. This is all new."

It was for both of them. Holly snuggled down in Gail's arms, smiling and closing her eyes. "For me too," she pointed out. Gail was a safe place to come home to, the eye of the storm of life, the tempest in a bottle who looked at her and saw a strange, nerdy intellectual, and loved her anyway. All the people who'd left Holly, or who'd chosen other paths that excluded her, lingered in her mind. And there, no, _here_ was Gail, who forged a trail with her. They took turns at the helm, sharing the work and the pain.

Before Gail could say anything, Holly went on. "I have been disappointed by a lot of people, Gail. But you are always exactly who you claim to be, and always who you are. I love that about you. I love that you hate people, you hate fakery. I love the scars on your heart because without them, you wouldn't be you. But more than anything, how could I not be in love with a woman who moved mountains for me, who would let me go when she loved me, because she knew it was right, and helped me when I needed a friend. You put yourself aside for me, Gail, and I knew right then there could never possibly be anyone else who loved me like you did."

Gail was quiet for a moment and then sighed. "You make me sound pretty incredible, Holly."

"You are incredible." Holly paused a heartbeat moment, "And I don't just mean the sex."

"That is also incredible," agreed Gail, brightly. "I missed that." She squeezed Holly closer for a second and kissed her. "Yes," she sighed, clearly happy.

Holly frowned and tilted her head to catch sight of her smiling wife. "Yes what?"

"Yes, I want to live with you, and love you, forever."

It took a moment to dredge up that conversation. The first inching of their future, the permanence to it, was so long ago now. "Forever's a long time," she teased.

"I told you I was psychic," noted Gail. "I can see forever right now. It's you, me, our kid, our friends, our family... And I want that. I want it all with you."

Smiling, Holly drew herself as close to Gail as she could. "Okay," she sighed. Shifting to her side, Holly rested the palm of her hand on Gail's stomach, rubbing a small circle. "I don't want to go home yet."

Gail sighed, stretching a little. "We don't have to leave till lunch."

Pushing Gail's shirt and sweater up a little, Holly slid her hand over the warm skin. "Good." She traced a finger around Gail's navel and down to the top of her pants. "I really love this cottage." Turning slightly, Holly kissed Gail's neck, just above the collar of her shirt.

"Remind me to thank my mother," breathed Gail, the hand on Holly's back tightening. But they didn't talk anymore about mothers or family for a while after that.

The next day they made it back to the city in the early afternoon to a house clean and Thai takeout. Lisa did not stay, hugging Holly and winking at Gail before taking her leave. Cheerful to have her parents back, Vivian took up most of their attention, helping start laundry and telling them all about how Aunt Lisa took her horseback riding. Well rested, Gail insisted on cooking dinner while Holly and Vivian went over the homework that Lisa did not pay attention to.

After dinner they sat in the sun room with hot tea, watching the wind blow the tree in their backyard while safely ensconced inside. "It's not the cottage," drawled Gail as a siren went by.

"No, it's not," laughed Holly. She put her drink down and leaned over to kiss Gail, trailing her fingers down Gail's chin.

With a clink, Gail's mug was set down and she leaned in, trapping Holly in the couch's arm. They smiled far too much as they kissed, hands roaming over arms, and not really getting too much towards heavy petting when the door opened.

"Moms can I have a cocoa-" Vivian stopped herself. "Oh. Sorry."

Gail laughed softly, sitting up. "What time is it?"

"Eight."

"Sure." Gail kissed Holly once more and got up to make cocoa for the child. When she came back with fresh tea, she was grinning. "I think that's the first time she hasn't made an 'ew' at catching us kissing," laughed Gail.

Holly startled. "Wow. I guess it's time for you to have a talk with her."

Now Gail looked surprised. "Me? Why do I have to? You're a doctor."

"You, my dear, have slept with men and women, and are more equipped for any questions." While Gail looked affronted, Holly carried on. "And remember how the last time went?" They'd already had a brief talk about sex, not the grownup time business, but that it was a thing and with a man and a woman, sometimes ended up with babies. Holly had flubbed it badly and abandoned Gail to cleaning up the mess.

"Oh. You are really bad at that," agreed Gail, merrily. "Fine. I'll give her the other sex talk. God... I dread when she starts dating." They both laughed softly at that dreadful realization.

Shaking her head, Holly opened her mouth to joke about it when Vivian's quiet voice came from the kitchen. "Hi, Aunt Lisa. I think it worked." Holly and Gail shared a wide eyed look of surprise. Holding a finger to her lips, Gail half-closed her eyes and tilted her head, listening hard. "Uh huh, they were makin' out on the couch in the sun room."

Holly had to cover her mouth to not laugh. Gail, far more talented at these things from her upbringing and job, rolled her eyes. Their daughter continued to chat with Lisa about them, tattling about how they'd been holding hands and kissing a lot more, and just now they were totally acting like teenagers. Then she promised to keep Lisa updated if anything happens.

After they heard Vivian tromp up the stairs, Holly broke down laughing. "Oh my god. Did our _daughter_ set us up?"

Sighing, Gail finished her tea. "I can't decide if I'm scandalized or proud that an eleven year old set us up."

"She's ten," wheezed Holly.

"That's what you're picking on?" A moment later, the smile tugging at her lips broke free and Gail joined her laughing.

* * *

 _You've already seen their future, and yes, things work out just fine. Everything has ups and downs and thankfully they make it through and remain lovers as well as friends._

 _The alternate title to this was "The Parent Trap" but that would have given away the ending._


	4. Deconstruction

**Chapter 04: Deconstruction**

 **Type: Drama / Angst**

 **Rating: T**

 _So Elaine's story._

 _I've actually become very nervous about this chapter, thanks to last night's RB in Canada (if you haven't see it, it's a gut punch for poor Gail... except as always it's all about Andy)._

 _But. I was asked what Elaine's POV is of all this. You actually asked that. Multiple people. This may make OWtO exceptionally creepy. I would classify it as hurt/comfort or family. It's mostly just sad. It does 'contradict' some of Steve's version of the story, which is a Rashomon effect for stories. Different people remember with different priorities and in different ways.  
_

 _This chapter takes place... All over OWtO. You should be able to keep track contextually. It ends right before the Perik trial._

* * *

She should have known before it happened.

She should have known when he was frustrated that Gail canceled the dates.

Or maybe she should have known when he was actually _angry_ that Gail had told her she was dating a woman.

When she knew for certain, it was that horrible dinner when she'd pressed, at his behest, and suggested Gail allow her to introduce her to men again.

"I'd rather not," Gail grumbled, surly and petulant.

Elaine arched her eyebrows, "Sweetheart, now that you've worked this out of your system, there are plenty of appropriate men-"

Gail put her knife down. "I'm a lesbian. Steve, can you pass the salt?" As her son handed her daughter the salt, Gail added, "No men, mother."

And that was when he spoke. "This is just a phase, some new rebellion."

The three other people at the table stared at William Peck. Elaine felt her heart bottom out. She cleared her throat. "Are you going to take the training officer position?" She had to change the topic.

Gail eyed her and shrugged, allowing the topic change without comment.

At home, she changed for bed and sat watching her husband of nearly forty years. He was ranting about Gail in a way he never had before. Normally Bill was disappointed by Gail, his less impressive, lazy child. The child who had more potential than anyone else, Peck or otherwise, who wasted it. And she was now ruining her career. And Bill was angry.

"A lesbian! She doesn't even know what she's saying," he snapped.

"Bill," sighed Elaine. "Introducing some diversity to the staff isn't a bad thing."

He scowled. "That isn't the point. She's torpedoing her career."

"It seems to have given her some drive. She agreed that it would be wise to take the TO position."

That gave him pause. "Well."

"She has a year left, Bill. If she can't succeed on her own, we can address it then." He scowled and shut up. Elaine had fought for Gail's five year promise, hoping it meant she had a plan, but two years into being a cop, nothing had changed. And now it looked like her plan was to be a lesbian.

That, Elaine told herself, she should also have seen coming. At least the doctor was a better person than Nick or Chris. Those two fools were too easily pushed around. Of course, Gail had already ruined her chance with Dr. Stewart. She probably didn't even know the woman was leaving her job, if those requests for background checks meant anything.

Neither of her children did very well with that, Elaine knew. It wasn't as if she or Bill were an example of a good relationship either. And it wasn't that Elaine disliked the woman, she hardly knew Dr. Stewart except as a name on paper, after all. _And_ it wasn't as if she could claim surprise that her daughter was gay. Any idiot could have seen Gail wasn't purely heterosexual.

In many ways, Elaine was pleased Gail had finally sorted out her sexuality. That was the sort of thing you needed to know before you got into a serious future in any career. But as with all relationships, Gail tended to fall into a strange complacency. She would never progress, just enjoy the moment and not invest. So really, the only good thing Elaine could point to about Gail dating a woman was that she'd realized what she was.

After Gail had made her little phone pronouncement of a haircut and a girlfriend, Elaine had done a bit of research. It wasn't very hard to sort out that Gail had been spending time with a forensic pathologist named Holly Stewart, nor was it hard to confirm that Dr. Stewart was the ME office's golden child these days. Smart, published, and yes, rather attractive, Elaine could see the cause for Gail's distraction. Her dalliance.

Quite frankly, Elaine didn't care if Gail was a lesbian. That wasn't her beef, though she did worry about how Bill would react. Elaine had always wondered if her daughter was gay, just by the way she acted towards men, using them instead of connecting with them. But that was ... Well. That may be her fault.

And then Bill had, tonight, reacted the way she feared.

Elaine watched Bill stomp off into the bathroom and lay down. What was she going to do about that? Her husband just did not adapt well. That was why he stopped at Inspector. There could be no future for him. He was solid, dependable, and sadly bigoted. Elaine had known _that_ for years, after he all but shunned Al after his remarriage. Honestly, like anyone cared his new wife was white.

Which is why she _should_ have seen this coming.

Before the kids had left, Elaine pulled Gail aside and tried to ask her daughter a serious question. Was she sure. And damn it, that child had thrown her own words back at her. "I don't want to look back on my life in 20 years and realize I made all the wrong choices, Mother."

It stung. That was exactly what Elaine was feeling.

What if she had made the wrong choices?

She curled on her side, thinking about where she was. Gail was 28. How had that happened already? Steven was almost 34. She'd been married for a terribly long time and, now that she looked back on it, she had the gut wrenching feeling she was making the wrong choices. She'd failed to guide Gail properly, to steer her to where Gail's future was certain.

Actually, Elaine had failed to prepare Gail at all. For anything. It was days later, when the email hit her inbox that Gail was trying to adopt, that Elaine grimaced and realized how little she'd prepared her child. She wasn't ready to be a parent, not with Holly and not without her, but there her daughter was. Wondering why Gail was going for an adoption and not Holly, Elaine finally checked into Dr. Stewart's life a little more.

Holly Stewart lived alone and had since buying her townhouse five years ago. Before that, she lived with friends from med school. Decent people, though one of them had a few tickets and a minor record. There was nothing objectionable about the woman. As Elaine pondered that, she tried to think of what Holly saw in Gail. As much as she loved her daughter, Gail had no direction in life. She floated. For a woman like Holly, that had to be frustrating. But more to the point, more to Elaine's point, Holly was a busy professional. Not a parent sort. It was too bad Gail had Pecked things up with Holly. The doctor would have talked her out of this stupidity.

Not three days later, Dr. Stewart's name came up on a background check from the United States' Department of Homeland Security. It was a high level check for a job as assistant medical examiner in San Francisco.

Well that wouldn't do.

Steven wouldn't help her talk Gail out of adoption. Bill was useless. Bill... Elaine closed her eyes for a while, thinking about that. What would the children say if they knew? It wouldn't be fair to tell them, to make them chose. And for now, with things as they were, it didn't matter if she decided to sleep in the other bedroom. They'd just think it was about Gail, when it was really far more than that. Elaine had known Al longer than Bill. Al took her, a wet behind the ears kid just finishing in her crazy double up on the academy and college, made her his rookie, and taught her everything. His girlfriend, later wife, Gail was one of Elaine's trusted confidants. But that Gail was gone.

Elaine remembered seeing her the day she died, Gail had come over to visit the desk bound, pregnant, rookie Detective Peck, saddled with an energetic toddler.

"If this one is a girl, you should name her for me," Gail had teased her. Elaine remembered it like it was yesterday. "And Al if it's a boy."

But the radio had stunned her not four hours later. Gail was dead. A month later, Elaine miscarried. The events were unrelated, but they felt too close to her heart. She thought she'd pushed all of that away, the part of her soul that cried at a funeral, because she was a Peck now. There had been so many sacrifices to be a Peck, so many aspects of her self that she'd pared away and buried.

It was another few years before she gave birth to a girl. It was an emergency cesarean, a terrible birth compared to the ease of her son. She'd started cramping, went to the doctor just to be sure, and the next thing she knew she had a daughter in an incubator. Undersized, angry, and according to the doctors, unlikely to live the months she'd have to spend in there. Without a thought for the Peck names she was supposed to use, Elaine named her Gail Antonia. Her friend. Her mother. To give the girl a fighting chance.

Oh how Harold had yelled at her for that one. That wasn't the agreement, he argued. And this one better shape up better than Steven, should it live. Average, held back a year because he bit someone in kindergarten, Steven. She'd wanted to shout that Steve was smarter than the idiot Donnie, that he was talented in seeing things. He was aware of everything. But the double burden of Gail's death, which still weighed on her heart, and Gail's birth knocked the fight out of her.

Of course Gail had lived. Elaine first held her when she was a few months old, finally strong enough. But she looked at the girl and felt detached. For Elaine, it was as if the beginnings or ends or middles of many mistakes were piling up on the small reddish blonde head. Finally those piercing blue eyes locked on her, a tiny person threatening to howl if she didn't get her way, and Elaine saw some of herself in there. She was never able to look at her Gail and not see Al's Gail. Not back then at least.

Of course Al could, coming over to see the new little Gail, taking her and Steve to the park. They were the replacements for the children Al never had.

Gail, her daughter Gail, wasn't ready for any of that. She was older than Elaine had been when Steven was born. But she wasn't ready. But without a check, a balance to her whimsy, Gail would do as Gail did. She needed a gut check. Someone needed to grab Gail by the shoulders and yell at her, tell her when she was stupid. Someone whom she would listen to. Someone who would be an equal partner and pull her back from doing it all alone.

What if she was wrong, though? What if the adoption was a good thing? Well then, damn it, Gail needed backup. Someone who, if this was the right choice, would stand by and help her. Someone to bear the burden of children and fight with her. And damn it all, the person who could do that was leaving Canada.

She couldn't fix that. She couldn't repair a relationship Gail had destroyed and, frankly, she couldn't fix her own. Elaine grimaced and closed her computer. What were her options here? Technically stopping Gail's adoption would be easy. Just drop the hints of her mental instability to the courts and let that be done. Tackling the doctor would be more difficult. She could prepare herself to talk to Dr. Stewart, to ask her to help Gail, but she couldn't bring herself to actively destroy her chances for adoption. She couldn't break Gail's heart that way.

Just as Elaine decided it might be alright to let it go, to let it play out, she realized what _she_ wanted. "Bill," she said over a Sunday breakfast. "We should divorce."

He looked up from the paper. Always the paper on Sunday. "Oh." The man frowned and looked back at the paper. "Now?"

"The kids are moved out. We haven't exactly been in love for years. It's drawing out the inevitable."

"Is this your way of saying you won't stop Gail from making another terrible decision?"

Ah. He had noticed she'd not done anything to that effect. "It's not necessarily terrible," she demurred. "What do you propose to do about it?"

Bill shook the paper. "I sent a copy of the Perik interview to Social Services. When they asked for a copy of her files. I included it."

Interesting. And quite horrifying. There was no way they'd let Gail adopt now. "So that's how you're playing it."

"We have a contract," he pointed out. "She has five years. If you go, that's done."

Elaine closed her eyes. She had a few choices here. She could rage and fight or she could understand what was done and lost. "Alright then. I'm moving to the other bedroom."

It gave her time to retreat and decide what was next. Bill had a point. Her position had been hard won, but it was also because she wore the name Peck. Her children carried the name as well. What Elaine did would reflect on them. So how could she unravel this? Gail's attempt to adopt was about to burn up like the Hindenburg thanks to Bill's phone call. Picking up the phone, Elaine firmly chose the option to save her daughter from disaster. One call. One to her friend at the consulate. One call was all it took to irrevocably change two lives. Three if once considered the child. Elaine frowned. Her daughter had a point, and she carefully set wheels in motion to put the girl in a good, safe, home. But Gail would not suffer without help again.

Maybe that was why, a few weeks later, she wasn't as surprised as she thought she'd to hear her daughter was seeing Holly again. And the girl. Sophie. Two people she couldn't have the way she wanted but there was Gail, keeping herself in their lives, keeping herself close.

Why would Gail subject herself to that?

Why would her strange, smart, walled off daughter do that? Why would _anyone_ do that? Why would Gail, who never asked for Peck favors from herself, ask for one from the medical lab? Elaine absently opened the report on that and stared. So the United States had blocked and rejected Dr. Stewart's employment. At best, Elaine had hoped for a delay, but apparently the DHS was a little more asinine than she'd thought. And Gail... Gail had run background checks on the rental tenants for the doctor's townhouse and gotten some Pecks to talk to the ME's offices about rehiring Dr. Stewart.

A woman who had moved on.

And Gail was _still_ fighting for Holly, in her own way.

Gail never did that. She hadn't fought for Nick or Chris. She hadn't fought for anything or anyone. But her she was, fighting hard for Holly to stay in her life, no matter how much it hurt her. There was only one possible conclusion and it was a revelation. Her daughter, Gail Peck, was in love. And Dr. Stewart had stayed for her, with her. She wasn't alone again.

At the same time, Gail was fighting to make sure Sophie got a good home with loving parents. She hadn't stopped seeing the girl, even though only a week or so after Dr. Stewart's Visa was revoked did the wheels of Social Services sort that out. And yes, they had used Gail's history against her.

Elaine exhaled and felt a small amount of relief. She hadn't completely failed her child yet.

"Steven is dating Det. Nash again," announced Bill at dinner.

It was possibly the first time in a few months that Bill had started the conversation first. "I know," she replied, eating her salad slowly. When had they started putting tomatoes back in the salads? Probably around the time Gail moved in with Epstein, when she was dating Nick. Elaine didn't buy them, but there they were, a glaring reminder that her daughter never came over anymore.

Elaine only half listened to Bill complain about their son's choices. Nash was roughly Gail's age, too young. Did he know that Dr. Stewart was Steven's age? A little younger, actually, though Elaine, but she didn't say as much. Nash was from a poor family. Did it matter that Dr. Stewart was the child of doctors who owned a lovely house in the Vancouver area? Then he fell back to his normal argument.

"She only got the detective rotation because of that damned affirmative action garbage."

Putting her fork and knife down, Elaine stared at her husband. "Gail half-assed her paperwork, William." He startled. She knew he knew that, but still. He startled. "She didn't want the job then."

While she would never call Bill exceptionally intelligent, he wasn't an idiot. "Then?"

"She's still with the doctor," sighed Elaine, resuming her dinner. "And if you've noticed, she's been taking a great deal of classes. There's a rotation opening up soon for Guns and Gangs."

Not that Gail had said as much. She'd not said anything at all, nor done much save avoid Elaine's phone calls.

"She didn't say..."

Elaine stared at Bill. "You talked to her?" He nodded and looked down. "I thought we'd agreed to let her work through this on her own. She has half a year left."

Angrily, Bill threw his napkin down. "What did we do wrong?"

"Wrong?"

"Our _son_ is dating a single mother who has clearly slept her way into a detective position. One no one can evict her from since she was engaged to that fool, Barber. Our _daughter_ has majestically failed to show any semblance of drive, save to damage her career beyond reproach, after an adoption attempt and now this ... Lesbian experimentation."

Looking at her husband, Elaine felt something she'd not in a long time. Anger. "Is that you speaking or your father?" Her voice was cold and thin.

Bill looked somewhat hurt. "Can you ever have one without the other?"

Sighing, Elaine looked back at her plate. Probably not. The ghost of Harold Peck hovered over them both for different reasons. Elaine had forsaken all that she was to be all that could be as a Peck. Bill had never left the world of his family. Did that make her stronger? She certainly didn't feel it right now.

Finally she worked up the courage to ask, "What did you say to her?"

Her husband was quiet. "I asked what we did wrong."

"Well no wonder she told you to fuck off," laughed Elaine. She didn't find it funny, she just couldn't think of anything else to do.

Bill snorted. "It's your fault. You gave her five years."

That was true. "I also managed to avoid that disastrous wedding with Nicholas," pointed out Elaine, defending herself. The five years, that had been a peace offering. When Gail asked for it, it seemed fair and logical. A break from the Peckspectations, to rise or fail on her own merits.

"My father wouldn't have allowed it," muttered Bill.

"I'm not your father," snapped Elaine.

They stared at each other across the table. "No. You're not," he begrudged. "But this is yours to solve."

God help her. Elaine sighed. "Fine. I'll talk to her." When Bill barked a laugh, Elaine smiled thinly. "She's working a case with Steven. I'll talk to her at the station, since she won't come here."

"And that woman?"

That was her fault entirely. She'd managed to steer the army boy away, playing on his own insecurities. Could she do the same with Dr. Stewart? Elaine nodded at her husband, conceding somewhat, and started to plan her attack. She knew her daughter would not react well to a frontal attack. You had to slip behind the walls, ease your way in through the weaknesses and ...

She didn't want to. Holly didn't have to stay with Gail as more than a friend. She didn't have to stay as a friend. But she did. She clearly cared about Gail more than Nick had. Nick had crumbled at the slightest push.

What if she threw the fight?

Would Bill know? Probably not. Elaine held on to that thought and kept an eye on her daughter a little longer. It was almost summer, after all. Maybe she could quietly push Gail out of her comfort zone. It would be hard to train Gail right without talking to her, to get her to where she'd fight back against this, but she could do it.

Because Elaine could throw the fight and still win.

And the fastest way was to call in a favor. The next day she went down to the big building and looked in on the most important policeman in Toronto.

"Al," she smiled at the chief of police.

"Elaine." He smiled, cautiously, but they hugged as friends. "To what do I owe the visit?" It wasn't work, he knew that. She wouldn't have come here like that if it was work.

Sitting on Al's couch, Elaine exhaled. "It's Gail."

Al blinked. "She's doing really well, Elaine."

"For a Peck?"

And Al winced. He knew. He, who inherited the role of chief from Pecks, knew what that meant. After Harold passed away when Gail was a teenager, Al had stepped up to become the second youngest police chief even (after a Peck, of course). "Are they making noises?"

"When are they not," sighed Elaine. She could be honest with Al, her confidant. She loved him like her daughter adored Oliver Shaw. They could be honest with each other.

"I can't imagine Bill's happy about recent developments." As Elaine shook her head, Al's expression softened. "And between you two?"

"Me and Gail or me and Bill?" Her friend just arched his eyebrows. "Things... Things are at an end, Al," she admitted. "I haven't decided how to go out yet."

Al walked over and sat beside her. "Is there a rush?" She shook her head. "Let it take its time, Elaine," he offered. "If you're not fighting, there's no need to throw that into the mix as well. Just let it end." He'd never been a fan of their marriage in the first place.

Exhaling, Elaine moved to her real subject. "I think you should ask Gail to represent us at the parade."

The chief of police looked stunned. "Elaine, she despises public speaking."

"She doesn't have to speak. Stand on the float. Go to the dinners."

Pressing his lips together, Al asked shrewdly, "Is this your idea or Bill's?"

She smiled. "Mine. If she's serious about this, I think she should know now what will be expected."

"Peckspeckted."

"Potato, tomato." That was Gail's joke, but they both laughed. "I think she would do quite well. And I think it might help her."

"Help?" Al was surprised.

"She's finding herself, Al. I think this would let her start to see what she likes about herself."

Al nodded. "Alright. I won't mention its your idea." They agreed that was for the best.

She did manage to catch sight of her daughter at the parade. Gail was on the float in long sleeves, her hair mostly hidden under a baseball cap, tossing beads out at people. The expression on Gail's face matched most of the holiday pictures from her youth, clearly there under duress only. But as the float went by, Elaine caught the flash of a real, honest, happy smile when Gail was looking at her phone.

This was probably not going to work at all, she mused to herself. And Elaine wasn't quite sure she cared.

The fight at the station, a few months later, was unexpected. Elaine had meant to feel out what Gail wanted, what future she had in mind for the classes, and she'd overplayed her hand.

It was the first time in years she'd had Gail fight back when pushed, however, so Elaine wasn't sure anyone would really blame her for being caught off guard by her daughter's snap and bite. She could read between the lines and saw Gail's point and goal. Not Guns and Gangs, not drugs, not undercover... There was one thing left, one department where Pecks rarely ventured.

Organized Crime was a misnomer. Technically Steve and Bill both worked there, but they didn't work in the meat of the department. They didn't work on the cases that could be anything from a murder to a robbery, because the so-called Major Case Squad was similarly confusing by name. It didn't mean you handled fantastic cases, it meant you handled weird ones.

At one point, Elaine herself had floated the idea of it. But Pecks did homicide or flashy jobs like gangs and smuggling and drugs... The Pecks would never just let Gail try her hand at that. They would find a way to trick the rest of the force into kicking her down, failing her, pushing her away from her own path. Just like they'd done to Steve and Elaine and everyone else. Even with their patriarch, Harold, gone and dead, they still mustered their silent, vicious, plans.

She could only see one way. Her subtle game throwing, her secret aiding and abetting would not suffice. If this was going to happen for Gail, she had to be ready to stand and fight. And someone had to take the fall. But you couldn't fight alone, and Elaine had to know, she had to be sure that this Holly was staying around this time. It took a great deal more bravery than Gail might ever know to follow Holly to the parking lot and play the witch. She played the worst of herself and said things about Gail that the others said.

And right there, right then, in Holly's eyes, she saw anger. She saw pain. This woman, this doctor, saw right through Gail's icy facade... No, not a facade, through the armor that protected Gail from the anguish of a life without help. Holly saw the real Gail and, quite clearly, loved her. Holly would protect her, defend her, and support her. It was a relief. Holly fought back, but refused to be brought to the petty, Peck levels of war. She stood her ground and refused to bend.

Which gave Elaine hope and a choice. Now Elaine knew her plan would work if she was willing to sacrifice the one thing she'd wanted her entire life for the one person she'd never wanted.

Wasn't that the painful truth? Gail had been an accident. Gail had been the end of multiple miscarriages and was the premature baby who wasn't supposed to live. Elaine hadn't _let_ herself love her daughter because she had been certain that she'd not survive. And somehow, amidst the carnage of her life, Gail stumbled into Holly and found someone who loved her for exactly who she was.

Jealous. That's how Elaine felt. She was jealous of her daughter's girlfriend for a multitude of reasons. For one, Holly understood Gail. For another, Holly was clearly in love with Gail. There was that bit of a look that had passed between them in the detective bullpen that told Elaine how much Holly cared about Gail.

So why was she surprised again by the phone call a month and change later? Gail was moving in with Holly. Of course she was. Why shouldn't she? But it threw Elaine off her game. And it got worse when Gail asked why she'd married Bill in the first place. Pit turned out Elaine was unable to tell her daughter than she'd not married for love, but for a future career. She'd married Bill for status.

What a joke that turned out to be. Elaine sat at her desk at home with two folders on her desk. One held the transfer request for Gail. One held divorce papers. She covered her face for a moment, processing the reality of what she was about to do. He would sign the papers if, and only if, she signed both.

It was the perfect blackmail, she had to admit. The moment she'd seen Gail's transfer application and her scores, Elaine had felt a surge of pride. Her daughter had tackled one of the toughest detective exams for the most critical of divisions. Normally people were pulled from the detective pool and transferred over. One could count the number of patrol officers who were picked for the Major Case Squads on their hands. And Gail, her daughter, was one of them.

But there was a price.

God.

She could sacrifice her own future for this without a second thought. Would Gail see the opportunity? Did Elaine set it up enough so Gail was strong enough and brave enough to fight? Would Gail let it go? Would she fight back? She had more of a backbone when it came to Pecks at the moment, more teeth and venom. Would she ever understand why Elaine did this? She need, she desperately needed this to work. Pushing Gail out of her comfort zone, making sure Holly would back her up, it was all leading up to this moment. Gail _had_ to fight back. She had to attack. Elaine could do only one more thing, making sure Frankie or Ollie got their eyes on the hold early. It was Monday. The final decisions were to be announced Friday. Gail had to do this in four days to make it viable.

Elaine uncapped her pen and stared at the paper she'd printed. The choice was to be what the world would see as selfish. The choice was to forgo everything she'd struggled for and take the blame. Be the bad guy. Let her child hate her. And if Gail ever learned the trade off was for Elaine's divorce, she'd look worse. She had to let it go and accept her fate. History would paint her a bad mother, deservedly.

Signing her name had never hurt so much in her life. But Elaine signed it and brought both folders downstairs, along with her suitcases.

Bill looked up from the kitchen table, surprised. "Where are you going?"

"A hotel. Sign the papers." She slammed the folders down in front of him,

He stared at her. Slowly, Bill reached over and opened the top folder. Gail's transfer papers with a stay. A hold, from the desk of Staff Superintendent Elaine Peck. "How do I know you'll file it?"

She glared. "Don't test me, Bill. You have your pound of flesh. Now give me mine." Elaine reached into her pocket and put her wedding and engagement rings on the table. Then she put the pen down. It was a pen his father had given her on the occasion of her promotion to detective.

Picking up the pen, Bill opened the second folder and signed his name, initialing in the appropriate places. "Now what?"

Elaine checked that everything was in order. "I'll come back to pick up the rest of my things later."

"For god's sake, Elaine. You don't have to stay in a hotel."

"I don't even know you anymore, Bill. I'm not sure I ever did..." She sighed, feeling tired. "I can't stand to look at you."

He looked away. "I meant the house is ... Your mother's money bought the house." That was true, she realized. "I should be the one to leave." Standing up, Bill walked to the stairs.

Damn it. "We can sort this out later," she realized. "It's a large house."

They stood in silence, Bill leaning on the stair railing. "Do you want the master suite?"

"No." The smaller guest suite suited her better. She'd been there for long enough anyway.

But it began the oddest year of her life. Because her daughter was wonderful. Gail would likely never know what she'd done. She had given Elaine an out. At first Al had yelled at her, demanding to know what she was thinking. But when she'd explained herself, he softened and agreed to help. They came up with a few plans, but nothing helped more than Gail jumping over their heads to Internal Affairs.

The absurdity of it made Elaine laugh. Gail's preemptive attack had solved the problems. They'd let it go to IA, they'd let the fight happen. And they'd have to lose. She was going to have to lose everything, she realized. Not just her husband (small loss there) but her career. Elaine would have to be the bad guy, but in this way, she had her freedom and so did Gail and that, that would be the finest solution. Elaine had reinvented herself before, she could do it again, but this is what a parent was supposed to be and do. She was supposed to sacrifice for her children.

There had been precious little of that in their lives. She'd given her children so little. Never enough support, never enough protection, never enough love. And that was changing. It was going to be a slow change. It had to be measured and weighed carefully. If she was to quit and leave Bill at once, everyone would know everything, and there was a name to consider. The Peck name. The the name of Toronto police.

So they waited. They waited a year, living as strangers in a house, not completing the divorce proceedings until enough time had passed. But she had waited a long time for this, and would wait again. She could wait until she was no longer a police officer and no longer bound to Bill save by their children, and maybe then Elaine could repair the damage she'd wrought.

If she was lucky.

* * *

 _This was always the plan. Elaine was never the_ _only_ _bad guy._

 _Elaine was blackmailed into fucking up Gail's transfer, just so she could divorce Bill. And as you know, it was Bill who slipped the Perik stuff to social services. And no, she will likely never tell Gail she wasn't the only bad guy, even though Gail knows. It doesn't matter, even though Bill's dead, and would just make Gail hate her father more. Not that Elaine was innocent in all this. She just made some very bad choices._

 _And she is phenomenally lucky._


	5. And Baby Makes Three

**Chapter 05: And Baby Makes Three**

 **Type: Family**

 **Rating: K**

 _It's not what you think. This is a baby discussion that didn't fit in the 7th arc. Lily and Brian should probably have some say in this, don't you think? It's not drama or fluff, but it's kind of both. Family._

 _This takes place after Gail's car blew up and before she complained about sex, so the middle of Chapter 68._

* * *

Listening to her daughter recount the story, Lily felt her heart pound. "And ... She's alright?"

"She's tanked up on pain killers right now, but she's home." Holly exhaled loudly. "And asleep. Finally."

Lily frowned. "She was blown up yesterday. Why on earth is she home? Did she have a CT?"

Of all things possible, Holly laughed. "Mom, she's okay. Really. She cracked three ribs, badly, but they didn't separate. She just..."

When her daughter trailed off, Lily supplied a conclusion. "Doesn't do well in hospitals." Neither did Brian.

"No, not exactly," muttered Holly. "It's the painkillers. She has a, um, an adverse reaction."

Clearly Holly was trying not to spill Gail's secrets. "Your father tends to have flashbacks when he's on anything narcotic."

Exhaling, Holly sounded relieved. "Well so. There's that. Besides, I can watch her and she won't scare me off being grumpy." There was a fondness to Holly's voice. Fondness and fear.

It still amazed Lily how much her daughter was in love with Gail. Not that Lily didn't like Gail, rather to the contrary, she found the woman charming and honest and caring. But very fragile. Behind the icy walls was someone who had her heart trampled on numerous times. And Holly wasn't exactly known for handling relationships with subtle support. For all her daughter was brilliant, she assumed that science and logic would apply to everything. Including love.

But the moment Lily saw them together was the moment she realized how the police officer had changed her Holly for the better. Gail chased Holly out of her comfort zone and pulled her into the real world. No more hiding in books and just having fun with lovers, suddenly Holly was talking about futures with the woman, and even children as of late. Gail remarked that Holly made her a better person, more human and less bitchy. Holly admitted that Gail made her feel like a complete person, unafraid of change.

"You can't blame her for being grumpy, honey," smiled Lily. "Broken ribs hurt when you try to do anything, or so I've been told."

"I know, Mom." Holly was making some noise, probably in the kitchen. "But she's fine."

Interesting. Holly had said some permutation of that no few times. "Are you?" She knew her daughter well. While Holly was a daddy's girl, confiding in him about all things, there was something about Gail that made Holly want to talk to her mother. Maybe it was the layers of similarity between Gail and Brian, the damaged souls that wove their way into one's heart. Years and decades ago, Lily had fallen for the pain that hide in Brian's dark brown eyes. She knew his life had hurt him, but she found herself needing to comfort and protect him.

It was much the same with Holly. She loved Gail for the beautiful pain that the blonde carried with her. "No," confessed Holly, her voice small. "I'm worried about her. I worry a lot about her, Mom."

"Honey," sighed Lily. She wanted nothing more than to hug her daughter close. "Gail is very smart and safe."

"Yeah but a car bomb? I didn't... It was minutes, not even an hour, between Gail yelling at me to get away from the car and then no car."

Lily frowned. "But she did all the right things, Holly. She got you safe. Got the right people where she needed them."

"I know, I know. And if she was on the phone, she'd joke and tell you it's an excuse to buy a new car." Holly groaned. "It's not easy," she whinged.

Lily chewed her lip. "Are you having second thoughts?"

Silence. "About what?" Holly sounded honestly perplexed.

"Anything?"

"No," admitted Holly. "I mean not about Gail. It's just hard to get used to. I hate seeing her hurt like that. I mean, I hate any time she's in pain, but this is worse, and God, if we have a kid, how can I handle that and her?"

Lily blinked. "Kids." She didn't know what else to say about that, but it was a word that her baby girl hadn't said before like that. There was a tone that said this wasn't speculative conversation anymore. There would be a child eventually.

"Oh." And her daughter surprised her with a laugh. "You know... That's funny, actually." With a huff, Holly said, "Her mother came by the hospital last night. And this afternoon."

The explanation didn't really follow, but Lily let it go. "Oh? Are we talking to Elaine?"

"Gail is. Has been since the ... She's been talking to her mother for a while now. They got divorced."

"I'm sorry." That was never an easy thing to deal with. Lily's parents had divorced when she was five, so she barely had a memory of them as a unit. She couldn't really conceive what it would feel like as an adult. Brian's parents died within a month of each other when Holly was in med school, her of cancer which he'd nursed her through, and him of a broken heart, together till the end.

Holly sighed. "Gail wasn't really surprised. She did ask if it was her fault."

Somethings didn't change, no matter your age. "Was it?"

"No. I think it was Bill's. None of us really talk to him anymore."

"But Elaine...?"

"Well. So. Gail thinks she should have some kind of relationship with her mother, if we're going to have a kid."

There it was again. Her baby wanted a baby. Or ... Not. "Pregnancy or adoption?"

"Adopt," Holly said firmly. "Gail's job is way too dangerous, Mom."

Lily scowled and was grateful Holly couldn't see her face. "Honey, a lot of cops have babies."

With a sigh, Holly grumbled, "I know, but they're not Gail. I just... I don't know. It seems like a bad idea."

"You know, you _also_ have a pair of ovaries and a uterus," Lily pointed out.

"And a job with a lot of nasty chemicals-"

"These are excuses. Do you not want to have a baby of your own?" There was a pause on the phone. "It's fine if you don't, Holls, but you should be honest about it."

"I really don't want to be pregnant, Mom."

"Well. I can't blame you. Post partum was a bitch." She and her daughter laughed a little at that. "I just... I worry about you, honey. Especially when things like this happen and it's got to be terrifying."

Holly drew in a long breath. "It is. How ... How do you deal with it with Dad?"

"Your father doesn't run back into danger. I don't know if I could stomach him being a target regularly."

"I can't ask her _not_ to, Mom. She's a cop. This is her job. It's ... This is all she's ever known and wanted." With a grumble, Holly added, "I know it's probably a Peck thing too, but she's _good_ at it, Mom. She's a great cop and she loves it. And I love her because of it."

"But it's scary?"

"Terrifying," agreed Holly. "I'm always a little afraid I'm going to lose her."

Lily sighed. "To be honest, Holls, I'd be more worried if she lost you." Her daughter made a surprised noise. "She's very fragile, honey. She ... If I died, your father would be wrecked. She's the same way."

Dryly, Holly pointed out, "That is incredibly morbid, Mom."

"Don't be afraid of having children, adopting, fostering, because you're afraid of losing her, honey."

Holly sucked in a breath. "Mom..."

"It will hurt more, sweetie. Having a child... You live in a constant state of terror and guilt. Everything hurts worse because their pain is yours, and you know you can't get in the way. You have to let your daughter fail. At sports, at school sometimes, at love... And you have to be there to pick up the pieces when she's scared and wants you to hold her because the crazy, grumpy, blonde she married got hurt." While Holly didn't interrupt, she did laugh a little. "But, Holls, there's this thing, there are these moments when you are so, so, incredibly proud of them that you think your heart will burst and you can't possibly contain the love." Lily exhaled deeply. "I will be happy, no matter what you and Gail decide. I am so very proud of the woman you grew up to be."

In a small voice, Holly mumbled, "Okay."

"Okay," replied Lily, closing her eyes. "I love you, Holly."

Her daughter sniffled. "I love you too, Mom."

Really, she wished she was there, helping Holly take care of Gail, who was bound to be a curmudgeonly grump. "Go take care of your girl, sweetie. Make her some tea. Bake something. Sleep. Tell Gail we love her."

They exchanged another round of goodbyes and Lily hung up, pressing her phone to her chest. God, how it hurt not to be able to do anything for Holly just then. She wanted, desperately, to get on a plane and rush out and help her, take the load off and babysit Gail, support Holly. But that wouldn't help. Holly was an adult and while she was scared, she hadn't asked for help. She would. Lily sighed.

"Hey, sweetie, what's going on?" Brian wandered in from his office, hair rumpled and askew from his work.

"Gail was hurt at work," sighed Lily, turning to press her head against her husband's chest.

Brian's arms wrapped around her, holding her close. "Gail? Is she okay? Is Holly?" Nodding, Lily took a long, shaky breath. She let Brian lead her over to the couch, sitting in his arms. Lily loved his arms, the warm solidity of them. These were the arms that held her when she'd been fired, when she been terrified of pregnancy, when her sister had nearly died in that stupid bike riding accident. When her best friend died...

"She's alive. She's home."

"Tell me what happened?" Brain stroked her hair, his soft hands gentle and tender. She loved those hands as much as the arms.

Trusting her husband, Lily explained what she knew. That Gail had stopped an international theft ring of some sorts and, in retaliation, they tried to blow up her car. Gail had known something was wrong as she got into the car, ordering Holly away, making other police officers chase her away. ETF had managed to get Gail out, but the car was a loss.

Brian carefully asked how bad Gail was hurt, how long she'd been in the hospital for, and other useful, factual, questions like that. He knew his wife, thank god, and knew what helped ground her and settle her. He led her through the story to where she was calm again, breathing steadily.

"She brought Gail home early," noted Lily.

Her husband laughed. It wasn't a funny laugh and it was exactly what their daughter tended to do. "You'd bring me home early."

Lily snorted. "Of course I would. You have nightmares in hospitals." She paused. "I think our daughter married you."

Smiling, Brian kissed her head. "That means our daughter is you. Which means we're amazing parents."

She sighed and settled against him. "They're getting serious about kids, Brian."

He startled a little. "Our Holly? Our Bolly Wolly Holly who swore she was never getting married and never having a family? Our workaholic baby?" Brian laughed for real. "What's Gail's favorite food? We're sending her presents."

They both laughed softly at the idea of their daughter _wanting_ to be a parent. "I wonder where she got that idea," grinned Lily, relaxing more. "Never getting married or having kids."

"I always thought it was because she was gay," Brian mused. "Maybe we should have had another."

"God no," she groaned. Post partum had nearly wrecked her. She'd barely been able to get out the door without bawling her eyes out. "They'll probably adopt. Or foster to adopt."

Brian nodded. "That's good too," he agreed. "Can you see Gail dealing with pregnancy? She'd pop a vein."

Wasn't that the truth? Lily laughed. "Holly wouldn't be much better. Tell her she can't do her job for months because of the chemicals?"

They both laughed at the idea. "How did you survive," wondered Brian. "I wasn't much help."

"My sister, mostly. But I will say that the flower smell was horrific." When pregnant, Lily had a supersonic sense of smell. Some of that had been alright, as she'd found the smell of her husband to be an aphrodisiac. Some had not, such as when the flowers in bloom at the conservatory had smelled rather rancid. And both bacon and coffee had been disgusting until the seventh month, when finally her taste and smell senses returned to normal.

Brian, however, had wandered down a different track. "Amorphophallus titanum."

Horrible smelling flower, Lily had to agree. And also one of Holly's favorites. "Our daughter is very strange," she agreed, smiling.

"Do I want to know what brought the baby talk on?"

Lily exhaled sharply. "Apparently Gail wants to try being friends with her mother. She thinks it's important if they're going to adopt. And Elaine showed up at the hospital." She felt her husband stiffen and glanced up at him. "Brian..."

Surprisingly, he shook his head. "That's up to Holls, dearest. I bet Gail would pick Holly over her own mother. I would." He had threatened his mother when she'd objected to his marrying Lily, telling her that she didn't have to meet her first grandchild. They'd not told Holly that she'd been an accident, conceived months before the wedding, but their little scientist had asked if she was premature and, when Brian said no, looked serious and announced she'd thought so.

They'd laughed for days, and 'I thought so' became a family punchline for the parents.

"It's too bad," mused Brian. "They'll never learn how beautiful a pregnant wife is."

"And they'll never have to deal with swollen ankles and crazy hormones and post-partum."

"When you put it that way..." He laughed. "Do you regret not having more?"

Lily looked up. "Brian, I love you so much. If I thought we could have had a second without me killing you, we would have."

He flinched. "I'm sorry."

They had talked about it so many times, they didn't need to now. She'd wanted more children, but it was never all his fault. "Me too," she reminded him, leaning back comfortably. They could have had more, and less careers. Or more career and less Holly. But they had made their choices and Lily didn't regret a thing.

Her daughter was strange, confusing, and queer. That had been a shock, walking in on her teenager with another girl. And damn him, Brian thought it was logical and made sense. He had seen it coming, after all. He'd always said Holly was going to be a lesbian, but Lily dismissed it.

She'd never wanted to think of her baby facing the pain that was society. It was tough enough to have an intellectual giant for a child, who wanted to take things apart and was terribly awkward in social situations. For years, Holly let her friends drive her socially, so Lily worried this was just some other girl pushing Holly into making out. But no, not at all, this was what Holly wanted. She liked girls. When she explained it to her mother, there was the same blush that Brian had when he had first told Lily he loved her. Awkward truths.

Still. All that was easier than the day her top of med school baby told them she was going into forensic pathology. Lily had reacted badly and snapped that she wasn't paying for it. That was the closest she and Brian had come to a divorce. He didn't understand it any more than she did, but he yelled that he knew one thing and that was he loved his daughter and he'd support her. Lily was fairly sure he'd been sneaking her money too the whole time.

She capitulated the day after Holly texted her a photo of the sales slip for her beloved motorcycle and a lease for a shitty apartment with Lisa and Rachel. It was clear that Holly was deadly serious about this and had made a plan to afford school and housing. Lily sent in a payment for the next term of school and nothing more was said about it until graduation. At that point, Lily apologized.

"Our baby girl," Brian laughed, abruptly. "I can't believe she got married. That's still crazy. It's the only normal thing she's done in her life."

Lily laughed as well. "The only child I know who had a first _sentence_ and not a first word."

"I want the green one, please," hooted Brian. That had been Holly's first sentence, out of nowhere, asking for a green shirt and not the one Brian had been holding. He'd been so stunned he shouted for Lily and asked Holly to repeat herself. Lily remembered telling him that children didn't work like that, but Holly did and they stared.

Their crazy, strange, smart baby girl was grown and successful and married. "I wonder if I'll ever stop worrying about her," Lily mused aloud. She was always worried about Holly.

Brian scoffed. "About as likely as I'll stop feeling guilty."

"That should go the other way," teased Lily. She got up and kissed Brian's forehead. "Your mother thought we were insane, having a kid."

"Mom thought I was a man-whore, knocking up my girlfriend." Stretching out on the couch, Brian tucked his hands behind his head.

That was right, laughed Lily. Brian's mother was disappointed in him. Her's had been surprised and chagrined to learn they had used protection. "I thought she was going to sue the condom company."

"I should've let her."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Make me dinner, husband. I need to file my report tonight." He agreed to and she smiled, heading up to her office. They hadn't planned to have a baby or get married, but it seemed logical and right to do that when they found out. They were in love.

Pausing at the top of the stairs, she looked down at her husband, already puttering in the kitchen and clanking around. He came into her life, jaded and damaged, his soul bruised, but still with that biting sense of humor. But the pain. The beautiful man and his pain attracted her in a way she'd never seen coming. It hit her that he'd suffered and survived. She hadn't wanted anyone in her life, but that man slipped in and stuck in her heart.

The same misadventure had happened to her daughter. They were more similar than Holly would ever admit, but to learn that Gail, fractured as she was, had snuck in and won Holly's heart without even trying, was amusing. They did love each other. But better yet, they understood how to work with each other.

"Go write your report," he called up at her, not turning around. "And stop checking out my ass."

"It's a nice ass, Brian."

She smiled and trotted into her office.

Who was she to tell fate it was wrong? Lily wouldn't trade her daughter, or her daughter-in-law, for anything.

* * *

 _Nothing really deep about this. I had the phone conversation written from Holly's perspective and in the fic, but then it was getting long and weird and I put in a bit with Elaine instead. But here's a moment of life from the Stewarts. Like the Pecks, they were also parents with a rather brilliant child. Clearly they handled it better, though not perfectly, and adore their child._


	6. A Girlfriend Experience

**Chapter 06: A Girlfriend Experience**

 **Type: Family / Romance**

 **Rating: Almost M**

 _This is and isn't what you're thinking it is. Yes, it's in direct reference to Gail undercover as Jasmine, but that's not all it is. Holly will tell us the story of a fancy police dinner._

 _This takes place after Bill is dead and Gail is now the head of major crimes at Fifteen._

* * *

For as girly as Gail liked to be, she hated shopping. For as tomboyish as Vivian still was, she loved it. Taking the both of them out shopping for a dress was an exercise in patience for Holly.

"What about this one?" Vivian turned around in an adorable little red dress.

"Not sure that's entirely appropriate," sighed Holly. She didn't hate shopping, but this was the fifth store. "Honey?"

Gail was draped over a chair, her head hanging back. "Too sexy."

"Mom! You're not even looking!"

And Gail tilted her head to look at her daughter, shooting Holly a long-suffering look along the way. "Too short, too much cleavage. You are fifteen and this is a work function." She dropped her head back on the chair. "I liked the cute blue one."

"It was for a little girl," groaned Vivian. "Mom, please explain to Mom that I'm not a freaking baby!"

Holly groaned, "Why am I always in the middle?" She shook her head. "It's too sexy for the fundraiser, Viv." Her daughter threw her hands up while Gail raised a victory fist. "And _Gail_ , she's fifteen. The blue dress was a juniors." The two women in her life traded arm-expressions and Holly laughed. "How about we take a break? Get some froyo?"

Rolling her eyes, Vivian headed back to the changing rooms. "Stop trying to sound hip, Moms."

Her wife groaned. "She's six. She's an adorable, cute, truculent, self-contained six year old who doesn't laugh much, hates showers, and calls me Miss Gail. She is _not_ a hormone driven fifteen year old who kneed her date in the groin behind the gym."

That had been the most hilariously horrid school phone call three years ago. Vivian had gone to a dance with a boy from school who had tried to kiss her behind the gym. After she said no, and he tried again, she kneed him hard and slammed her fist down on the back of his neck, laying him out cold. _Then_ she'd panicked and called for an adult. Gail had been no help at all, laughing her head off when she'd picked up the girl from the school.

"She's fifteen and wants to look sexy, Gail," smiled Holly, leaning over. "She's going to want a car soon."

Gail slumped further in the seat, grimacing. "No. No. No."

"The garage can fit three."

"No. Noooooooooo no." Gail stuck her fingers in her ears.

As she came back in her jeans, Vivian frowned. "What's wrong with her?"

"You grew up," grinned Holly, tugging Gail up. "Come on, Peck, you need to eat."

A dejected Gail got up and slung an arm around Vivian's shoulders. They were nearly of a height, the three of them, but soon Vivian would meet and surpass them. Long gone was the undersized first grader. The awkward middle schooler was fading as well. Now they had a coltish young lady with long legs who was starting to turn towards curves and probably would get serious about dating sooner rather than later, when she finally sorted out people.

She was still a little off the norm when it came to dating, having gone to subsequent dances with friends. Thus far, there had been no more dates for Vivian. By comparison Liv, her best friend, had burned through three boyfriends in the last year. It gave Frank grey hairs. Absently, Holly checked herself in the reflection of a store while Gail and Vivian were looking in the window of Roots. Her grey was showing more and more now. You couldn't hide the passage of time, she sighed.

A hand touched her back. "Hey." Gail's fingers sought hers, lacing through them.

Holly smiled and squeezed Gail's hand back. "Hey." They bumped shoulders and Vivian threw her arms over both of them. "What did I miss?"

"I think you're beautiful, Holly," Gail remarked.

"I think you're both weird," offered Vivian, laughing. "Can we eat at the Italian place?"

Nixing that, Gail had a good argument. "That's the place that got tomatoes in my dish." They argued about meal options for a while until they ended up at a new French place. The menu looked good, but between Vivian being the pickier eaten and Gail wanting to interrogate them about tomatoes, it would be a while.

When Holly's phone rang, she stepped away to answer. "Dr. Stewart," she said into the phone, head down to concentrate over the noise. It was the Crowne Attorney with the status on a case she was working on. The trial was coming up soon and they wanted to reschedule a meeting to go over her testimony. They sorted out a good date and Holly tapped it into her calendar before she was startled out of her thoughts by a voice she hadn't heard in years.

"Holly Stewart?"

She blinked and stared at the woman. Shorter than she was, close cropped red hair in a waif-like cut. Then the memory clicked. "Melissa Goldman?"

"It is you!" Melissa grinned, delighted, and hugged Holly without hesitation. "Look at you! It's been forever!"

Holly was discombobulated. "Almost fifteen years," she replied, bewildered. "I thought you were in Bulgaria or something..."

The last time she'd seen Melissa had been after a disastrous argument where the other woman had dumped Holly over a lack of commitment. Melissa, an accountant, had wanted Holly to get serious, move in with her, and have kids. At least Melissa had the grace to blush, seeing as she'd pretty much vanished after that fight. That had been a couple years before Holly had met Gail. "I was. I came back to be a partner." And she explained about her new job with a ritzy firm.

That was impressive. "Wow, that's amazing."

"And you? You're still with the city forensics?"

Holly nodded. "Oh, I'm in charge now," she admitted, feeling like she was bragging. "Chief Forensic Pathologist."

Melissa's eyes widened. "Wait, so you're the chief medical examiner?"

"Basically, yes." Holly shoved her phone in her purse. There was an awkward pause, neither sure where to go with the conversation. They hadn't ended on a good or friendly note, after all. "It's. Um. It's nice to see you."

"This is weird, right?" Melissa laughed. "I mean it's been years."

Holly nodded. "Almost fifteen." They were already repeating themselves.

"You look amazing," smiled Melissa, giving Holly a serious once-over.

She didn't get that sort of look often, not from people other than Gail. It happened when you got older. The days that people stopped and turned to watch you after you walked by dwindled. Once in a while she got those looks from some Cougar hunting rookie at the Penny, and she usually gently broke it to them after they got her a drink. If Gail was around, the joke might go further as the blonde liked to watch their faces when the rookies realized Holly was married to _her_.

But Melissa's look was different. This was a woman who did know exactly who and what Holly was and ... God, Melissa was superficial. "Your hair, though," sighed Holly. It was something safe to comment on.

Conspiratorially, Melissa leaned in, "Bottle."

Okay. That was amusing. She smiled at her ex. "It's really close to your natural color."

"Can't let interns call me an old lady, though. Maybe if I went a nice white like you, all classic." It was starting to delve into awkward territory. "Are you seeing anyone?"

And then, of course, Vivian popped up. "Mom. We're getting a table."

It was horrifyingly hilarious to watch Melissa's face shift from awkward to shocked when the words sunk in. There was a teenager calling _Holly_ 'Mom.' Holly nodded at Vivian, "Okay, I'll be right over."

Vivian gave her a weird, doubtful, expression. "San Pellegrino?"

"Please," smiled Holly, watching Vivian head back over to the restaurant.

"Mom?" Melissa's voice was weak.

Holly nodded. "That was my daughter." They stared at each other for a while. "I'm married, too." She pointed over at the restaurant. "The blonde."

Peering over, Melissa looked stunned. "Wow. Talk about classic... Jesus, you married a looker."

That was more underestimating so much of Gail, to just compliment her looks. "She's ... She's fluent in a dozen languages. Crazy smart."

Melissa looked flummoxed. "Oh. What does she do?"

"She's a Detective. Police Inspector. Heads up a whole division in major crimes." No one really understood that, not outside the force. "We were actually dress shopping. She's getting a service award next weekend." The actual award was for being a leading woman in law enforcement which came during a fundraiser, and Gail had been nothing but snide about it for a month. Her mother had the same award, received when Gail had been a rookie.

Shaking her head, Melissa was clearly stumped. "I'm sorry. You got married and you have a kid. That's just crazy, Holly. You? You hate marriage."

"Not exactly a fairytale," mused Holly, wondering what Melissa would say to find out that Holly had been the one to propose. "Melissa, it really all just happened." Because she knew what was going to happen next.

Melissa sighed explosively. "You're married and you have a kid," she repeated. "When the hell... Not long after us."

There was a hard look in Melissa's eyes, and Holly felt guilty. She'd expected it. "Not ... We met a few years after you left." Holly didn't want to hurt Melissa. True, they'd not ended on any good terms, but she wasn't cruel.

"You're a parent. Holly, you told me you never wanted kids."

Apparently she wasn't succeeding at the not hurting. "I didn't, and then I changed." She hesitated. "Do you...? Did you ever...?" Holly was sure that Melissa was single. That much she knew.

Melissa shook her head. "No. No, I never found... And I didn't want to alone."

Knowing how much work a child was, Holly understood that now. "They kind of suck up all your free time and energy," she admitted. But looking at where Vivian was explaining something to Gail, who didn't turn around, she couldn't not smile. It was all worth it.

"Wow. I can't... They're waiting for you." Melissa shook her head. "It was really nice to see you, Holly." They hugged again and Melissa walked off.

When Holly got to the table, Viv and Gail were demolishing the appetizers. There was some sitting on Holly's plate, though, along with two five dollar bills. "Do I want to know?"

Vivian grinned. "Mom says she was your ex. I think she's a classmate."

Rolling her eyes, Holly handed the money to Gail who smirked. "She was too awkward at that hug." Gail pocketed her loot and pushed a menu over, asking nothing more about the encounter.

After lunch, they managed to find a green dress that didn't offend Gail and wasn't too junior for Vivian, which made everyone happy. At home, Gail was cleaning off her dress uniform when Holly felt burdened to explain.

"So that woman at the mall?"

"Yeah? The bottle dye job?" Of course Gail noticed that.

"That was the last serious girlfriend I had before you," she sighed, falling onto the bed.

"Melissa? The crazy accountant who got pissed you didn't want a kid?" Gail laughed softly. "Oh man, I woulda loved to see her face when Vivian popped up." Sometimes Gail was still a little mean.

Holly eyed her wife. "Yeah, she called me Mom." Rolling onto her back, Holly frowned. "I feel like a bad person."

"Because you changed in the years since she ditched you?" Scoffing, Gail, put the lint brush down on her dresser and sat beside Holly.

She nodded. "Kinda, yeah." When Gail's fingers brushed her hair back, Holly smiled.

Gail didn't say anything, she just smiled down at Holly fondly. Gently caressing Holly's face, Gail leaned in to kiss her. That was so Gail. She didn't have the words to explain how she felt, to tell Holly that there was nothing wrong in not being the same as you were over a decade ago. The lay there, kissing quietly until Vivian poked her head in.

"Moms, if you're done sucking face, can I go to Liv's?" She had her phone in hand, thumbs tapping away.

"I thought the whole reason you spent a day with us was because she had a date this afternoon." Holly propped herself up on her elbows to study her daughter.

"She did," sighed Viv. "She also had a boyfriend this morning. Now she's got neither."

With a snort, Gail got up. "Going to bike over? Or does she want to hide from her parents here?"

Vivian perked up. "Can she come over?"

"What did I just say, Monkey?" Gail laughed. "I'll make her fried chicken." That was all it took for Vivian to call her BFF. As long as one of the adults drove her home after, it would be fine.

Holly didn't mind having Liv over, but she did miss Sophie being around to drive the kids. "Gail, how old is Sophie now?"

"Twenty-two. Can you believe that?" Gail shook her head and checked her dress uniform once more. "Okay. Next Friday night we head out to the universe's most boring commendation fundraiser bullshit. I can't believe Viv wants to come."

"She's wanted to go for the last couple years," smiled Holly. This year, Vivian had begged to be allowed to go, wanting to see what it was all about. Gail couldn't understand it, pointing out the dinner was boring and bland and the speeches dull and dumb. "Besides, you're getting an award this year. She wants to see and cheer for you."

Gail snorted and checked her hat for wear and tear. "I hate this uniform. The belt is stupid and the hat is dumb." The hat went back in the box, her white gloves were checked, and then Gail flopped back onto the bed beside Holly.

"And yet you look edible in it," Holly noted.

Eying her, Gail repeated, "Edible?"

"Mm. Scrumptious. Desirable." She rolled over and ran a finger down Gail's chest. "Sexy."

"You are so predictable, Holly," smiled Gail, cupping Holly's chin and drawing her down to kiss. "And you have a uniform fetish."

"I have a Gail Peck fetish," teased Holly.

Five days later, they were in a rush to dress and get out the door. Gail's day had run away with her, losing the witness to a big case and having to send out patrol to find him. They had, thank god, found the man alive and not dead, which was a story Traci told about Jerry and a dead witness the day Elaine Peck was stopping by. Dressed in her uniform, Traci was helping Vivian with her hair while Holly hemmed and hawed over her own dress-up options. As much as Gail teased her about not wearing dresses, Holly did own a few.

She finally settled on a simple dark blue, nearly black, dress, off the shoulder and snug, hugging her curves. It made her skin look like satin and her hair stunning. That would do. Vivian sighed. "That is not fair, Mom! How come you look that amazing?"

"She has more curves," laughed Traci.

"But she doesn't do _anything_ with her hair and it looks astounding."

Traci and Holly shared a look. "She's fifteen," Holly sighed. "You should have come dress shopping."

"Makes me wish I'd had a girl." Traci's laugh was infectious. "When's Gail getting here?"

"She's not. She took her uniform with her this morning when her witness went AWOL." The new plan was to meet her at the event, which sucked since it meant two cars. Or Traci could drive them... "Trace, are you picking up Steve?"

"No, he said he'd go straight from work. Why don't you come with me? One car?"

Vivian, with her long legs, complained about being in the backseat of a car smaller than theirs, but was clearly delighted to be going to a grown up function. This was the first time since Gail had received that MOM award where she'd be up on stage for an important commendation. It was one her mother had received years ago, when Gail had been a rookie. Traci entertained the car with telling them about how Gail was supposed to introduce her mother but finked out.

"How come I don't have to?" Vivian sounded both relieved and confused.

"You're not a police officer," explained Holly. That had actually come up in conversation. "Besides, Elaine wants to introduce her."

Nodding, Vivian fiddled with her necklace, an Armstrong present for her last birthday. It was her first really expensive jewelry, and came with matching earrings. "Elaine will love it. Is she going to come in uniform?"

"Probably not, no," smiled Traci.

The last year, Vivian had started to show a little more overt interest in Gail's job. Holly was getting the feeling that their child would announce her intentions to join the force any day now, but had not shared that thought with Gail yet. She knew her wife would be opposed just on the basis of her own name. For the daughter of a Peck to join the force would place an incredible burden on Vivian, making her adopt a mantle she wasn't properly ready for. A Peck was certain things, even a pair of Pecks like the two Inspectors that were affectionately called the Bitchy One and the Goofy One by their wives.

Neither Gail nor Steve had successfully shaken off all the angst that enveloped them as children. The constant belittling of skills, Steve being referred to as the normal and unimpressive one, Gail the smart but lazy one, had taken their toll on the siblings. Learning from Elaine that Bill's father, Harold, had been the perpetrator of such abuse horrified Holly. It was worse because they looked so much like him. You could see Harold in Gail's eyes and Steve's chin. Holly imagined every day they saw a bit of a man they hated in the mirror. A man who had hit his own grandson.

That confession had stunned her and Traci. Elaine had told them, late one night when Gail and Steve were out. Poor Steve had suffered a horrible day and lashed out at Gail, who had curiously taken it well and dragged him out to the range to shoot off his anger. The last time Steve had run off the rails like that, Gail had slapped him and, when Holly told Elaine about that, Elaine said she was glad Gail hadn't again. Because Harold had hit Steve, once, and that was the last time either of her children spent any time alone with him.

Holly couldn't imagine growing up Peck. To grow up where your brilliance was seen as useless because it wasn't what they wanted, to be chastised for showing talent in things unrelated to policing. To cut yourself out of your child's life and distance yourself to try and teach her empathy because your father-in-law demanded it. Elaine knew it was wrong, but she'd not been brave enough to fight Harold at that time.

How strange it was to think of Elaine not being strong enough to fight back. How sad to think that Steve had been hit by his grandfather. How painful to think that Gail's suffering at the hands of her family was a mix of a stupid idea that she was too smart to be empathic with people, and her mother never really connecting with her as an infant. How stupid it all was.

It made Holly want to hug Vivian close and tell her how much she and Gail loved her.

Traci parked them in the garage and led them through the structure. ID's were checked, Vivian's twice since she didn't look quite like her photo, and they were finally waved in.

"What's with the security?" Vivian tucked her clutch under her arm.

"There was a bomb threat about thirteen years ago," explained Traci. "God that feels like another lifetime."

That was the day Gail and Holly had started getting back together too. "Without it, we wouldn't be here," she reminded Traci. "That was a weird week."

Traci looked thoughtful. "It worked out pretty well."

A male voice cut in. "Well hello, beautiful wife. And who's this lovely lady?"

Vivian laughed. "Hi, Uncle Steve."

He did a cute double take before kissing Vivian on the cheek. "I'm going to get a dance with you and your mom there tonight."

Delighted, Vivian asked, "There's dancing too?"

Holly leaned in to kiss Steve's cheek. "Watch out. She kneed her last dance partner in the jewels."

"Mom," groaned Vivian.

"Still won't be worse than dancing with Gail," teased Steve.

Smiling, Holly looped her arm through Vivian's. "Speaking of, where is _my_ Peck? The one who gets hopped up on caffeine."

"With our Mother, over by the people with more swank on their chests." He waved in the direction and caught Gail's attention. While Gail was in her uniform, Elaine was in a green tinted dress that complimented Vivian's. There had probably been some Peck sartorial slight of hand going on there.

Quickly removing herself from whatever the discussion was, Gail crossed the room towards her family, Elaine a step behind. Watching Gail in her dress uniform wasn't _quite_ as wonderful as watching her in a slinky dress, but Holly appreciated it none the less. It really did things to Gail's form that did things to Holly's libido. Something primal and powerful radiated from Gail when she had the uniform on.

Even though it was only been the work day since they'd seen each other, Gail had eyes for Holly and grinned ear to ear. "Hey," she smiled, leaning in for a brief, chaste, kiss on the cheek.

"Hey," replied Holly, feeling her own smile wide and silly.

"Jesus, Moms. I'm right here." Vivian rolled her eyes and accepted a quick hug from Gail without further complaint. "Can I mingle?"

"Sure," agreed Gail. "Oliver's over there if you want to say hi." Vivian did and headed over, making a stop at an hors d'oeuvre tray. "That's my girl," Gail laughed.

Holly reached over and adjusted Gail's collar. "I want a real kiss now." With a smile, Gail obliged and kissed her lips. "How's it going so far?"

"Found our CI, so that's okay. Mom hasn't threatened to shoot anyone, so _that's_ good." She threaded her fingers through Holly's and rubbed her thumb on the ring. "Come on, let me introduce you to people who don't give the slightest fuck who we are," said Gail with faux-cheer.

It was a bore, playing up the Detective's Wife, but Gail was having a day where she had to be on the job and dressed up and celebrated. Which was fine. Eventually it'd be Holly's turn to be touted at an awards banquet again, which meant Gail would wear a slinky dress and Holly could ogle her. This time Gail introduced her to handful of higher up people, including the new chief. The previous one having been fired following an investigation by Superintendent Frank Best. Frank now had Elaine's old job, though he wasn't the Staff Super, and had been instrumental in the case.

Gail had found it amusing and rather liked the new chief, saying he wasn't a Peck crony, so that was alright. The man was old enough for the job without being questionable, married, had a long career in the right departments. He was unobjectionable, as Elaine put it, though she'd rolled her eyes considerably. She felt he was boring and unimaginative. Staid police work.

As the night wore on, there were speeches and dinner and, finally, dancing. The speech wasn't so bad, Gail managing to make it through with only the faintest green tinge. As for the dancing, they hadn't gotten a slow dance in, since all sorts of people wanted to grab Gail for a spin. The same happened to Vivian, who was delighted to find herself popular. She never spent more than two minutes with her mother before being whisked off.

"She's very popular," said a cerebral man with some chin scruff, a little taller than Holly.

"It's her first grown up dance. I have a feeling someone's bribed all those young men and women to dance with her." Someone named Peck, Holly just wasn't sure if it was Steve or Gail yet.

The man blinked and looked back at where Vivian was dancing with a woman a little older than she was. "How very modern," he mused. "You don't look like a police officer."

Holly tilted her head. "Neither do you." The heteronormative angle of his questions made her think he was fishing to find her husband. "I'm the Chief Medical Examiner," she offered, amused to see where this was going.

"Everything is illuminated. I'm a donor."

"A huge giver for successful women?" She sipped her drink. If he spotted her ring, he said nothing. It had been a while since a total stranger flirted with her like that and it might be fun to see Gail tear him down. Everyone always thought Gail was the only terrible person in their relationship, but Holly had her evil as well. That was one of the reasons they worked so well together. It let her get past the oddity of her ex, too.

"Unintentionally." He smiled faintly. "I had a run in with the law fifteen years ago. One of the conditions of my sentencing was that I volunteer for more female oriented events." He spread one hand out. "Turns out I like them."

Holly shook her head. "A very strange deal from the Crowne," she mused. "Mr...?"

"Davis. Charles Davis. Ms- excuse me. Dr...?"

"Holly Stewart." They shook hands.

"And you often come to these?"

She laughed and shook her head. "I avoid them like the plague, but family obligations being what they are."

Charles' eyes drifted to her hand. "Your husband?"

"My wife, Gail," she smiled at him. "Actually, if you wait just minute, you can meet her." Gail was escaping from some suited man who seemed to be drunk and gesturing wildly.

Startled, Charles did remain where he was as Gail arrived. "Jesus, save me with a tequila, Holly," she muttered and waved at the bartender. "Tequila. Two?"

"Please." Holly put her tonic down. "I've made a new acquaintance," she added, subtly gesturing.

Gail glanced over at Charles, picking up the glasses. "We've met," she said absently and handed Holly a drink.

Charles smiled a little confused. "We have? I'm sorry Officer Peck. I'm sure I'd have remembered you."

"Detective Peck," she corrected. "I'm not surprised you don't remember. It was fifteen years ago." Holly blinked at her wife. That was the time Charles mentioned he'd had a run in with the law. "NiceGuy76, right?"

The man's face paled. "What- what? I'm sorry, I have no..." He trailed off and his eyes widened.

"You forgot the complete girlfriend experience?" Gail's smile was vicious and biting.

Holly turned to study her wife. What the what? "Honey, do you want to unpack?"

But it was Charles who stammered the answer. "Jasmine? They said you were kidnapped."

"I was," confirmed Gail, her voice hitting a tone Holly rarely heard. Perik. Holly caught Gail's free hand and gripped it firmly. "Holly, I told you about the case, the man we arrested for sex trafficking?" She jerked her chin at Charles. "Charlie Davis."

She and Charles looked at each other in surprise. "Oh," laughed Holly. "Now that's funny," she said to her wife.

"I'll be damned," muttered Charles. "Detective. And a lesbian?"

"Unrelated to you, Charlie," Gail said, about as charitable as she was likely to get. "Well the lesbian is. The detective... You were a cog in a wheel. How'd the court case turn out?" To Holly she added, "He shocked us all when he pled guilty. Swarek testified, I was excused."

"Didn't see much choice. I paid you." He sighed and shook his head. "It's funny. I remember threatening to sue you all. But my lawyer had me start doing these." Charles gestured at the room. "I used women before. I regret that."

"Oh, don't be boring," chastised Gail. "I used men for years. Not for hire, but still. You can't learn when you try and pretend that sort of thing didn't happen."

Charles turned his head. "Maybe. Maybe. It was surprisingly informative to see you again, Gail."

Gail raised her glass. "Cheers, Charlie." As he walked off, Gail shook her head. "I will shoot him in the balls if he goes near Vivian."

Their daughter was currently dancing with her uncle Steve, laughing happily. "Unlikely," mused Holly. "I'm pretty sure he knows she's ours. Or at least mine."

Making a disgruntled noise, Gail drank the tequila. "I did not expect to ever see him again."

Holly watched Charles (Charlie) Davis walk off and frowned, hooking her fingers in Gail's belt. "Remember when I said our marriage was cursed?" When Gail nodded, Holly jerked her chin at Charles. "I'm sorry that turned a shitty night into a worse one."

"Nah," sighed Gail, pushing her hat back so she could kiss Holly softly. "Someone _always_ brings up Perik at these things. Mom's been trying to get around it all night. At least Charlie... I was more honest with him than I had ever been with any guy I ever dated." She kissed Holly again and the faint taste of tequila reminded Holly of her own.

"Is that good?" Holly drank her tequila and put the glass down.

"Reminds me to always be honest with you." Gail's hands wrapped around her waist. "You look beautiful."

Smiling, Holly ran her hands up Gail's arms to rest them on her shoulders. "You confound me." Gail tilted her head in confusion. "I never know when you're going to be alright with that sort of thing."

"I'd tell you if I knew," sighed Gail. "Can we go home?" Now Holly tilted her head and Gail leaned in to whisper, "I want to peel you out of that dress with my teeth."

Holly flushed. "You'll have to convince your daughter to stop dancing."

Looking around Holly's neck, Gail sighed again. "Maybe she'd want to stay at Mom's..." They both knew that was unlikely. She still didn't like sleeping over at anyone else's, unless Gail and Holly were there. Having a panic attack, at fourteen, was considerably more embarrassing than it had been at seven, and now Vivian just told her friends she didn't care for sleep overs.

They never pressured her about the problem. If it meant they had to be available by phone three times overnight so their teenager could surreptitiously check in, then they were. On the other hand, Vivian was perfectly comfortable being left home alone, so they had taken a few nights out in hotels now and then. Gail joked that hotel sex was the best because no one knew them and if they were loud, they didn't have to worry about being teased forever.

Not like they worried about sex at home either. Vivian was more than old enough to understand what was going on, though she didn't really seem all that interested. Before that ill fated dance a few years ago, Gail had taken Vivian out to have a more frank talk about sex and the pill and condoms. She swore Vivian hadn't been too embarrassed, though as of yet Viv wasn't on birth control.

Holly sighed and leaned into Gail, swaying a little with the music. "Thank you for saying yes," she told Gail softly.

"To what?"

"Marriage. Fostering. Kids. Moving."

Gail made a soft 'Ah' sound and let go, taking her hat off. "You're welcome," she smiled. Holding the hat out to the side, Gail plunked it on Vivian's head the moment the girl arrived. "Ready to go home, Monkey?"

The young woman adjusted the hat. "My feet are killing me," she whinged. "As soon as I stopped dancing."

"Yeah, that's how it goes." Gail grinned. "Let's say goodnight to Elaine." Gail's mother was not surprised they were making an escape fairly early. She did make a passing suggestion that if Vivian wanted to stay, she could take her home later.

Surprisingly, Vivian turned to her mothers. "Can I?"

Often Gail said that conversations with Vivian never went where she expected. "She stays pretty late. Mom likes to close the night out," Gail pointed out almost absently, as if it didn't bother her either way.

"If Elaine doesn't mind..." They'd never managed to have anyone call Elaine 'grandma.' Both Vivian and Leo settled on calling her Elaine and that was that. Holly had never heard the woman complain about it, saying she was satisfied getting to be a grandparent no matter what title they used. "Can I spent the night maybe?"

Holly felt her eyebrows jump. "Well. Did you ask her?" It was a temporizing question, one used to buy time. Gail's hand left hers and signed something at their daughter. While Vivian's French was iffy, her sign language was phenomenal, better than Steve's, and she and Gail regularly signed too fast for Holly to read.

The return sign of 'Yes, I'm sure' was one Holly could read. "Can- May I, Elaine?" Vivian looked at the former superintendent.

"I don't mind," Elaine replied slowly. She was familiar with Vivian's issues. There had been a failed sleepover for one of Gail's birthdays years back. It had ended up with Vivian staying up the whole night. Elaine apparently didn't mind, and just stayed up chatting all night with her granddaughter. Scrabble was involved.

"Okay then," agreed Holly, taking the decision out of Gail's still signing hands. She and Vivian were rapidly covering concerns, which included Gail insisting that she didn't have to and Vivian signing she wanted to.

Elaine dryly asked, "Do they do that at home?"

Holly sighed. "Regularly."

"I had to ban it at the dinner table," noted Elaine, clearly amused by the memory. "I thought it was good they had a secret language, though." Holly's eyes brightened and she smiled. So there was that answer. Elaine had known what the siblings used it for.

Finding the secret Elaine behind the Peck had become an amazing journey. Elaine had shown herself to be attentive, thoughtful, kind, and not someone to screw with. She marched in gay pride parades with Gail, much to the blonde's chagrin. She came to Vivian's track meets to cheer her on and Leo's software conferences where he spoke about technology none of them fully understood.

It would be much easier to hate Elaine. To despise the woman who'd knowingly killed Holly's job in San Francisco would be as simple as breathing. But that was over a decade ago. Holly had been angry still when she was forty. Now that she looking at fifty rather seriously and was a parent, she had come to see things very differently. Yes, Elaine had been so wrong as to be insane, but her intentions were surprisingly understandable. Gail never would have made it through Sophie, adopting her or not, on her own. God knows what stupid things Gail would have done.

Not that it made it alright, and they all knew it. But. She forgave Elaine for the intentions. For the silent way she'd tried to help her daughter all this time and for the loud way she supported her now, Holly found the capacity to forgive. And tease. She still teased and poked Elaine about it, but it was at the same level as teasing Gail about tazing herself in the eye. Time made more things funny.

Reaching over, Holly took Gail's hand mid-sign and tugged on her arm. "Honey, tell your mother and daughter goodnight."

Vivian grinned and put the hat back on Gail's head. "Goodnight, Moms." She kissed each one of them on the cheek. Elaine just gave a quick and still awkward hug for them before putting her arm around Vivian and guiding her over to some rather old people.

"Okay, was Viv being really nice to us or does she want to stay?" Holly looped her arm through Gail's and led her out of the party room.

"She wants to schmooze. I'm no longer certain she's mine," teased Gail.

Impishly, Holly quirked a smile. "Well, I was courting adoption with a lot of hot blonde cops back then."

Gail rolled her eyes. "Too bad you're stuck with me." They laughed, leaning into each other comfortably.

They collected their car and Gail drove home, Holly toying with the dress uniform hat in her lap. Gail, normally pretty chatty (or at least likely to complain) after a night like this, was quiet and lost in her thoughts. Her tie and jacket were still done up, but the gloves had been shoved into a pocket hours ago. Holly admired her wife's introspective face for a while but finally asked, "Everything okay in there, honey?"

Blinking, Gail glanced over and then back at the road. "Yeah. Yes. I'm just thinking." She reached over and touched Holly's thigh briefly, just a caress to assure Holly that her head was there.

"Gail," sighed Holly. "How long have we been married?"

"A decade," said Gail, automatically. "Remember that big party we had last May? Your dad actually flew in?" Gail looked amused. "I sang karaoke." Gail had sung "Brighter Than The Sun" because Holly loved that song, and she'd put up with a large party thrown by Elaine and Lily because the mothers colluded for revenge over not getting a wedding party. Then they'd spent two nights in a honeymoon suite at a fancy hotel, because Gail's rich Armstrong family had decided they liked Holly quite a lot. It had been an interesting, if awesome, anniversary. Everything about their marriage and honeymoon that had gone all kinds of horrible, thanks to work, had combined to go just right for the anniversary.

Holly smiled. "After twelve years do you really think I can't tell where your head is?"

Her wife winced. "I was hoping not to kill the mood," she admitted. "I was kind of feeling bad that I still can't deal with taxis."

Interesting. Like Vivian, Gail took conversations in strange directions. There were things you couldn't do when you didn't takes taxis. Both of them couldn't get drunk unless they had arranged for a ride with someone, or could walk. You couldn't make out in a car on the drive home. "You know I don't mind, honey," Holly finally said.

"I know. And I know, but y'know?" The sentence didn't make much sense, except it did.

"Watching you drive me home doesn't kill _my_ mood."

Gail glanced over and smiled. "Oh really?"

And Holly quirked her lips into the smile she knew made Gail do things like go to nerd conventions and sports games. She gave her a smile to the side, curving her expression to remind Gail she would not take her bullshit, but she delighted in the sarcasm and dark humor Gail still wielded like a sword. Holly smiled, warmly and sweetly, giving Gail the look to tell her she loved her and saw her. "Still kinda beautiful," she said softly.

The pale skin flushed, pink rising from the white shirt collar up to the nape of neck where the short, recently bleached blonde again, hairs stood up. "Oh," murmured Gail, cheeks warm as well.

Once in a while, Holly doubted if she was still as good looking as she'd been twelve years ago. Regularly, she caught Gail watching her with open adoration. The blue eyes that showed the storm that was Gail, the careful eyes that could see the breakpoint of a perp, the watchful eyes that kept children out of trouble, the warm eyes that looked over the couch at Holly and smiled. Even if Holly had her hair in a messy bun and a pen in her mouth, papers strewn over her desk while she tried to organize her thoughts into a brilliant article. In Gail's eyes, she was beautiful. Mind, body, and nerdy soul, Gail loved all of her.

Being able to make Gail react like that, being able to make her blush just by smiling at her, made her feel amazing and powerful. It was a great, heady, sensation. The ability to make a woman stutter or dissemble with a look. The talent to make them forget everything for a moment but their want of you. And the fact that she could do that to her wife after a dozen years, well that was the icing on the cake.

"I hate when you do that to me when I'm driving," sighed Gail, shifting in her seat.

Holly smiled smugly. She refrained from further comments until they got home and Gail pulled the car in. "You do look really good in that uniform. I love how it fits you."

Gail turned off the engine and reached over to cup Holly's chin, drawing her face over to kiss. "That's _really_ unfair," she breathed. The center console stopped either of them from climbing into the other's lap, but they certainly managed to make out for a while around it. Holly's fingers greedily gripped Gail's lapels, keeping her as close as possible, while her wife's hand took hold of the back of her neck.

They actually managed to steam up the car a little, including Holly's glasses, and broke apart. "Oh, I'm unfair?" She laughed softly and leaned back, opening the door.

"That worked better in a truck with a bench seat," grumbled Gail, getting out her own side and catching Holly by the waist as she passed by. "Seeing you in a dress is like Christmas," she added, kissing Holly's bare shoulder and then the back of her neck. "And heels. This necklace." Gail's hands were strong. They had to be to hold a gun or a rifle steady. They held Holly steady as she kissed along the skin of Holly's shoulders and the back of her neck.

She was tempted to stay in the garage longer, but she wanted out of her shoes and to touch more of Gail. "I believe I was promised you would get me out of this dress with your teeth," she reminded.

Gail's hold wasn't restrictive at all for how strong it was. Holly easily slid out and opened the door to the house. Like a puppy, Gail trailed behind her with the sound of rustling fabric. The hat went on the side table as did Gail's gloves, pulled from whatever pocket she'd shoved them in. "I still like the getting dressed part," promised Gail, unbuckling the belts on her uniform jacket.

As much as Holly wanted to get right to the prize, she caught Gail's hands and slowly helped her unbutton and remove the jacket. "You will be pissed off if you tear this," she chastised, carefully laying the coat over her arm and walking for the stairs.

"You know, when we were younger, we used to just go for the couch." Gail's voice was a near whine, but she picked up her hat and gloves and followed. "You just dragged me down, uniform and all."

"You didn't have all this swag on your jacket back then, Inspector." Holly glanced over and smiled at the different kind of blush on her wife's face. That particular promotion had caught Gail by surprise and she still wasn't sure how she felt about being a detective inspector, especially since it meant she was going to end up as more than just in charge of the major case squad at Fifteen if this went on.

But yes, more than once Holly had found herself too impatient to get Gail upstairs, or even fully undressed. The uniforms did things to her, or maybe it was just how Gail looked in them that did it. Either way, Holly's blood pounded to see her wife in her blues.

Predictably changing the subject, Gail asked, "Can we get to the part where I get to unzip you?"

Smiling, Holly waited for Gail at the top of the stairs and reached over to take hold of her tie. "I don't know. I've got you on a leash for a change."

The smile in return was the toothy smile. The one that Gail sometimes wore from ear to ear, baring her canines in a sharp burst of happiness. Gail took two quick steps to catch up, one hand molding to Holly's waist, the other taking her dress uniform jacket. "How about I hang this up," she murmured, her breath tickling Holly's ear.

"I think that's a good idea."

Holly watched, stepping out of her heels (picked out for the night by Gail and surprisingly comfortable) and waited. Her wife carefully hung up the jacket and put her hat and gloves in their box, before kicking her own dress shoes off. When she started to undo her tie, Holly coughed and shook her head. Crooking a finger at Gail, Holly gestured her closer. Without a moment of hesitation, Gail crossed the room and her hands again found Holly's waist, backing her up to the wall and burying her face in the crook of Holly's neck.

To say Holly's hands were greedy would be an understatement. She wanted to touch Gail's skin, which had been covered up all night by the pants and shirt and coat. It was more accurate to say that she needed to touch Gail's skin. Tugging the shirt out, Holly's fingers found the soft skin at the small of Gail's back, while her wife was inching Holly's dress up her thighs. Holly closed her eyes and let her head rest on the wall while Gail's lips covered her neck and clavicle. The hands on her waist moved in and down and up and Holly groaned, hooking one leg around Gail's waist.

Eventually they did make it to the bed itself, after Holly told Gail exactly what she wanted to do to her, and the blonde shuddered with anticipation. There was no child (teenager) in the house, no reason to try and keep their noise level down. It had been quite a while since that had been the case. Long enough that it was practically novel. As tired as they were from long days and long hours of work, they did end up staying awake rather a long time, making the most of every moment.

Holly would have happily slept in, curling up with Gail in the early morning. She woke up first, wearing a t-shirt, with Gail pressed up against her back. The sensation of the warm breath and steady heart beat rocked Holly right back into sleep. That was fine. Six AM was too early after that night.

The real awareness and wakefulness came with a phone call not long enough later. "Kid, I love you, it's early," groaned Gail into her phone. There was a long pause. "I don't know, it's nine... Well we were up late. Hang on." Gail gently rubbed Holly's near shoulder. "Are you awake?" When Holly made a noise, Gail asked, "Hungry? Mom wants to go to breakfast."

"Pancakes?" Holly squinted an eye open.

"Mildred's Temple Paradise." Gail was grinning. "Yes, we will meet you there in an hour." She paused. "Because I'm still naked, Viv." There was laughter and Gail hung up, tossing her phone back on her nightstand. "I've horrified our child."

Holly rolled over and oozed an arm across Gail's waist. "You reminded her that her moms have sex." Her wife was still naked and shivers ran down Holly's spine.

"Really great sex." Gail smiled and let Holly pull her close.

They had an hour. It might be cutting it close, but... "Stay in bed," she whispered and started to kiss the nearby skin.

Gail kissed her forehead and climbed out of bed. "I'm hungry, Holly."

Smiling at the one thing that would get her wife out of bed, Holly sat up. "Of course you are." Holly hugged her knees and watched the naked blonde collect the items of clothes that had been flagrantly discarded in the night. "Do you think Viv slept?"

"No," sighed Gail, putting her shoes in the closet. "Mom probably stayed up with her."

After all this time, Vivian still did not handle sleeping over well. The poor kid. Holly sighed. "Hang up my dress, please?"

Gail shot Holly a smirk. "Sorry." The dress was hung up and the socks and under garments tossed into the hampers.

"You _did_ promise to pull it off me, though I don't think that counted as with your teeth," sassed Holly, grinning.

"My mouth was busy somewhere else. But you seemed to like the experience."

She really had. A thought that had tickled the back of Holly's brain came to the front now. "What's the girlfriend experience?"

Gail paused and looked up with her dress shirt in hand. "Oh, Noelle came up with that for my escort advert. Jasmine brings the complete girlfriend experience." Rolling her eyes, Gail shoved the shirt into the dry cleaning bag.

"Why so disparaging?"

"I'm not girlfriend material," Gail pointed out. More than once Holly had heard her say that, and while she was friends with Nick now, if ever there was a moment she'd punch him, it would be if he ever said anything like that again. Wisely Nick had learned not to piss off Gail or her wife.

Wife. That still made Holly grin. She was married. Still. And while her wife's self esteem was better than it had been when they first dated and better than it had been when they married, Gail still had issues and doubts.

"So far the wife experience has been a good one," she remarked.

The slow smile that crossed Gail's face was both shy and broad. "That's a different thing," Gail mumbled, turning pink.

Holly lay back on the bed as Gail vanished into the bathroom. "Its one of my favorite things. Coming home to you, you coming home to me."

"If you keep sweet talking me like that, I'll think you really like me or something," teased Gail.

"News flash, Gail. I'm in love with you."

Soft laughter was heard over the sound of the shower. "That's good, or last night would have been really awkward." The water got louder as Gail opened the shower door. "You getting in or what?"

Yeah, the wife experience was pretty awesome.

* * *

 _Hello Charlie. Goodbye Charlie. This idea just popped into my head as 'what if Holly met Charlie?' It turned into something different._


	7. Pussycat

**Chapter 07: Pussycat**

 **Type: Drama / Crime**

 **Rating: K**

 _John Simmons finally gets the transfer he wants, but it's to a new division... And it involves a Peck. This is a friendship sort of chapter._

 _This takes place shortly before "You Khan Take It With You"_

* * *

"Simmons, are you serious?"

John looked up at his boss and blinked. Why wouldn't he be serious? People always said he was as serious as a heart attack. "Sir?"

"This transfer. You serious?"

"Yes, sir," nodded John, pushing his files back to make room on his desk. He'd heard about the openings weeks ago and while he'd wished it was in his own division, beggars couldn't be choosers. He'd been in missing persons for seven years, long enough to make his name and a career. He'd joined shortly out of patrol, a green rook with nothing to show except a decent arrest record and a missing fiancé. But now, John was tired of it.

The Inspector sighed and sat down. "This isn't to do with Bethany?"

John kept his face still. His missing fiancé had been declared legally dead not that long ago. "I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me start thinking about it, sir," he admitted. "This job eats my heart."

That had been the hardest part of his work. Waking up every day to know that you may never find the missing people wore you down. And while Bethany vanishing was why he'd started, perhaps it was equally fitting that she was why he ended. His boss understood that somewhat. They talked for a while but John made it clear this was what he deeply wanted.

While his boss understood, John's partner did not and it made for a very uncomfortable month. John avoided it, burying himself in his work, making sure to get his cases in order, interviewing with Major Cases, and otherwise demonstrating his worth to them. It was a long process and it did hurt him some that he would be changing divisions.

It was Fifteen, the home of the top names in policing, not Thirty-One, that had the opening. Of course it could have been worse and the slot could be at Twenty-Seven, but John knew very little about Fifteen other than what everyone knew: th home of heroes. He didn't get much of a chance to learn about them either, as his partner kept dumping all the work on him. Cody was angry and John understood that.

He and Cody barely got along. They were too different in too many ways. Cody was a man's man, as they said. He was bold and brash and had frat humor. John was more subtle with his jests, more serious with his life. Maybe he could hope for a different kind of partner. Of course, all that was If he got the job.

It had been weeks of waiting and he started to doubt his own ability. Maybe he wasn't a great detective, or not great enough. Fifteen was pretty impressive when you looked at things. Their records were crazy good and that was where Superintendent Peck came from and Chief Santana. To call them the best of the best was not an understatement, even if they'd had a few rough years. Only the top percent of a rookie class made it in, and only a bare few ever transferred in or out.

Fifteen was a legend in many ways. John knew he was aiming high, but he'd felt a need to reinvent himself. He had to change and grow.

Finally, however, his boss came over. "Next month, Simmons." The room went quiet. "Everyone, listen up. Simmons is going to Major Crimes at Fifteen next month. Nobody dump new cases on him. Cody, you get the newbie for training, she'll be here in a week."

Understated. But that was Missing Persons. When you dealt with such highly emotional incidents, ones that didn't always end happily, you tended to dial things back and contain yourself. If you lasted more than a year without becoming an alcoholic, of course. There was also a higher percentage of female detectives, though not as much as children related departments, and they too were generally quiet and contemplative. Everyone was. Except for Cody. The newbie would have a rough time with him.

"Gail Peck," Cody announced, sitting down at the desk beside John with a growl.

"Yikes you landed a Peck as your new partner?" That was always a hard draw. Pecks could make or break you.

"Nope, you did."

John stared up at Cody. "I don't have a partner yet."

"She's the only one without a permanent partner in the department at Fifteen. Started out uniformed, made the Ds four months ago." Cody put down a folder.

Picking up the folder, John opened it to see the uniformed photo of a pale blonde, uniformed, looking firmly at the camera. "Wow," he muttered. The shot was from her graduation, chin length hair and haughty stare warning him not to fuck with her. And she was named Peck.

"No kidding. She's got a rep as an ice queen."

"She actually a Peck?" John knew about the Pecks. Everyone did. You didn't screw around with Pecks if you had any desire to move up in rank. He'd worked with a few before, notably Superintendent Elaine Peck, who was terrifying and from Fifteen. The age of Gail meant she might be the daughter of the Super. He vaguely remembered that being mentioned.

"Daughter of the former Super." And the way Cody paused, John worried. Awesome, it had to be that Peck branch. "Turned her own mother into IA." John's eyes widened. Everyone knew there had been some strange issue with Elaine Peck and she'd been 'retired' early. But to know her daughter was the cause? "All I could figure out was Superintendent Peck was screwing with her transfer to OC. They both got suspended and then Junior Peck is transferred, in uniform, and Senior Peck is retiring in a year."

"Well that should be fun," he sighed. John flipped the pages, spotting a sealed record regarding the Perik killings. Hadn't a cop been kidnapped? That must have been her. Not a year later was a suspension for neglect, and then nothing but commendations. "The Rivers Gang?" He turned more pages. "Think she cut a deal with IA?"

"I think your new partner's the epitome of Peck," Cody sighed.

Closing the folder, John slid it back. "Thanks."

Cody shrugged and left the folder, opening his laptop. "Could be worse. You've got a tiger and she's bound to get shit done."

"Always looking on the bright side there, Cody."

The other man snorted. "I'll miss you around here, Simmons."

"Don't get nice on me," John said dryly, turning back to his computer.

"Don't come running back to me when she busts your balls," replied Cody.

It was the only really friendly conversation he'd had with the man in five years.

On the other hand, within five minutes of meeting Gail Peck, John found out she had a viciously wicked nature. Inspector Butler was walking him through Fifteen, showing him the downstairs and introducing him to the important people like Staff Sgt. Shaw. He also met a handful of uniformed officers, including one named Duncan Moore. Except that was not how he met Moore.

"Damn it, Gerald! That's my mug!"

Butler looked over at the commotion and sighed. "And that would be Peck."

John blinked and saw a semi-familiar blonde who looked much like the photos he'd seen, but also not at all. The hair was shorter. Much shorter. A cute sort of tomboyish look. The color was more of a golden or red yellow, clearly dyed still, but as if she was trying to make it look more natural. The clothes were also different. A black shirt and a green jacket with indigo jeans made her look positively normal, in a heartbreaker sort of way. But it was the way she carried herself in motion that made the photo useless.

In a still shot, Peck was striking. She had a kind of classic beauty you saw in film and fell for and regretted it for the rest of your life. A heartbreaker, aloof and distant. But in motion, she was a snake. Sensuous and striking in a very different, very dangerous way. Powerful. You may have thought she was dangerous before, but now you knew. Not someone you'd screw around with. Except the Gerald yahoo seemed to be temping fate.

"But boss-"

"Hey, I'm not your boss, Gerald. You work for Oliver. And what do we say about Oliver?"

The younger man, uniformed, hung his head. "Oliver loves all of us, so we do our best for Oliver. But, boss-"

"Gerald!"

"Sorry, but what do I call you?" He was practically wailing like a baby.

She paused and took a moment of pity, it seemed. "Oh my god, Gerald. You call me Peck, or ma'am, or Detective Peck if we're in the field, but _none_ of that explains why you are desecrating _my_ mug!" She reached over and pulled the white mug with the word 'DAD' on it. "Nicholas, please come teach this fool."

A fit looking man with the name tag 'Collins' came over. He and the others had been watching the argument with amusement. "Come on, Duncan. Stop poking the bear and go get the car." When Gerald (Duncan?) left, head hanging, Collins smirked at Peck. "Why am I doing your bidding, Gail?"

"Because, Nick, you are my bitch. Just like Chris and Dov. Shoo. I'm supposed to be meeting my new partner today." But Nick paused and jerked his chin over Gail's shoulder. She turned, and with no shame for the loudness that had just happened, smirked. "Sorry." Peck did not sound sorry.

"I'd ask her to behave, but this is as good as you ever get," sighed Butler. But he was amused. He was pleased, too. Clearly Butler liked Gail quite a lot. "John, this is Gail Peck. Gail, John Simmons."

John held out a hand, "Please to meet you, Peck."

She dumped her mug out and then took his hand. The grip was firm, a little callused from shooting guns, and she shook his hand, unafraid or even concerned. "The idiot who took my mug was Officer Moore, the shame of Fifteen. He was my rookie for a while." Peck made no preamble that she was pleased to meet him. Simply John was there and he was to be talked with. "At least he doesn't screw up crime scenes anymore."

Butler looked a little annoyed, though not at Peck, since he smirked at her. "You did Gods work, Gail. Can you take over? I've got to file the papers on the Goldman case."

Fixing her mug and getting a fresh cup of coffee, Peck nodded. "Sure thing, sir. The translations are in your email."

As Butler nodded back, John found himself asking, "Translations?"

"Peck speaks a dozen languages," smiled Butler, as if she was his pride and joy. "Make sure he gets to the Penny tonight." With a jaunty salute, Peck promised.

And so John was left with his new partner. A Peck who was apparently beyond the normal rules, who spoke languages and had more leeway than most rookie D's. But also a Peck who had run her own mother out. Maybe she was the best Peck out there, the one you had to watch out for before she'd stab you in the back. Or maybe she was the worst, the one who could care less about the Peckspectations. Maybe John wasn't sure which was better or worse.

"You're Superintendent Peck's daughter?" Start out gentle and simple. Just like with a perp.

Peck eyed him and looked disappointed. "First rule here, don't ask questions you know the answer to. You read my files. I read yours. Let's not play that game, alright?"

He couldn't help but smirk. "Fair enough. Why OC?"

She looked around at the hustle and bustle of the first floor. "Why Missing Persons?"

"I don't know you well enough," he said, shaking his head.

And of all things, she laughed. "Fair enough. Because I like the case diversity and I wanted to be something more. You?"

"Same," he shrugged. "Is the coffee safe down here?"

"Better than ours." She waved for him to get a cup and explained the lay of the land. "Fifteen is simple. Sgt. Shaw runs the show down here. You will be nice to Oliver or I shoot you myself. Gerald's an idiot. But his stepfather is Chief Santana so _most_ people are nice to him."

"Not you?"

"Chief likes me," she shrugged. John had a vague memory that she was, perhaps, his goddaughter? "If you're a dick to him, just remind him you're my partner. It'll shut him up."

John nodded. "The languages aren't in your file."

She sighed. "I keep forgetting to do that. Butler knows. You?"

"Chinese."

"Cantonese or Mandarin?"

"Mandarin. Why? Do you want to learn?"

"No, I'm having enough with Russian and Punjabi," muttered Peck. "Gave me weird Bollywood dreams."

Interesting. She knew some heavy languages. "So you get to translate things for OC?"

"Just Major Crimes. I also drive." Gesturing for him to follow her, she showed him the conference rooms and interrogation, introduced him to Homicide, who seemed to take over the first floor. Second was guns and gangs, where he met another Peck. Steve was Gail's older brother, given to suits versus Gail's more casual attire. The siblings didn't look too similar except when they moved. They had matching haircuts and pushed the hair back identically.

Then they made it to three, where Peck showed him his new desk. Hers was facing it with no serious personalization except for a framed notice of an MOM award and a sign that said 'Don't Poke The Bear.' He met Griggs and the other detectives, most of whom offered him joking condolences for being saddled with Peck. What stood out was that they all were joking and teasing. Like a family.

That feeling was reinforced when he went to the Black Penny for a drink after work. Peck's friends, mostly uniforms except for Det. Nash, were excited to see her and meet him. They were cheerful and friendly, more so than Peck was, but she had her moments of biting sarcasm. She was clearly their dark friend, the one who told it like it was and took the world head on.

"So I worked with your mother once," he said as they sipped pints of beer.

It wasn't in his files since he'd just been the uniform, so she probably didn't know about it, but to his surprise Peck looked thoughtful and frowned. "The Walsh case?" When John looked surprised she just shrugged. "I was living with my parents then. We used to talk about cases at the dinner table."

John huffed. "Interesting upbringing."

"You don't know the half of it," she sighed. Her phone pinged and Peck pulled it out to look at. The first truly honest smile lit her face as she read the text and tapped a reply. "What do you think of the losers?" Gail gestured with her phone before tucking it away.

They were interesting people. "Epstein's wanted to be a cop all his life, Price is insanely perky and perceptive, Nash is dating your brother, McNally is idealistic, and for some reason Collins and Diaz are under the impression you're their boss. Shaw's nice."

His new partner just grinned at him. "Alright then. So tomorrow starts the next day of the rest of your life, John Simmons." That seemed to be her brand of approval and acceptance.

They touched glasses and finished their beers before heading out for the night.

They'd picked up their first case two days later, a theft-under at a high end sports store. While he was talking to the people, she was staring at the climbing wall. They'd been alternating the interviews, but a minute into his, she tuned out. Finished, he was trying to formulate his annoyance into the right words when she took a photo of the wall and pulled out a knife, popping it right into the fake wall. "He said the wall was old. The first thing he built, right?"

John blinked. "Yes." Pulling out his notes, he started to read. "Wall was built in 1984, the year he opened the-"

"The year I opened the store. My wife thought I was crazy, but I said we had to have a selling point. I built that with my own two hands. Barely changed a thing since then. It's too popular." She'd recited the statement, word for word. "Then you asked about the other wall, that one." Peck waved a hand and worked her knife back and forth a little. "He's about to come yell at me."

It was so matter-of-fact, John almost missed the angry owner storming over. As he yelled, John soothed and promised his partner knew what she was doing, and Gail popped a hunk of plaster off the wall. "What the hell is that?" The owner was stunned.

"Looks like your money," grinned Gail. "Ring up forensics, Simmons. There's a big fat print."

He had been quite impressed with her memory skills, but that was a parlor trick. The way she thought sideways around the facts to come at a different but logical conclusion was, in a word, awesome. Peck didn't really care much for people, but she understood crime in a way he didn't. That could work, he felt. He had no problems listening to someone sob a story for hours and still finding the meat of the situation. By contrast, Peck saw the world and noticed everything.

He could deal with her being prickly and running hot and cold. Peck was clearly an acquired taste, tough to get used to, but incredibly loyal. She didn't suffer fools gladly, if at all, and she wasn't friendly. At least he though that until a couple days later. That was when he met Dr. Stewart.

He'd met her before, over cases that had taken the turn for the worst, and he knew she was a lesbian. Everyone knew that. Dr. Stewart had a pride flag button on one of her forensic kits, but more than that, she'd turned down dates with every man who'd ever asked her out. People figured it out pretty fast. In many ways, he'd known the pathologist far longer than he'd known his partner, or even of his partner. There were so many Pecks on the force, though the number had started to trickle down after the Staff Superintendent retired, the odds were that he'd even met his Peck at least once.

But Dr. Stewart was smart and funny and a little quirky. She was also very nice and friendly. The few times they'd talked, John was left with a lingering feeling that Dr. Stewart was one of the world's genuinely good people, even if she did give Cody shit for asking her out. Actually, it was probably because she told Cody he was an idiot, and already knew she was a lesbian. And because she'd told Cody he wasn't worth flipping for.

Seeing Dr. Stewart kissing Peck, out in the open, was startling, even though part of his brain knew Peck was gay as well. Peck was on that float, he'd seen a photo in Shaw's office where she looked like it had been taken under duress, and her file jacket had her listed as being on the diversity group. Of course he also knew she was seeing someone, she'd told him that. It was just unexpected to actually see her with someone, and more-so _that_ someone.

They were standing on the corner of the block, close enough that his detective senses tingled. Peck never stood that close to anyone. She seemed to like a healthy bit of distance from most people, and he'd never seen her hug anyone, not even her brother. Sgt. Shaw got away with throwing an arm around her shoulders now and then, but everyone else was consigned to the most basic and rudimentary expressions of friendship. Peck was _not_ touchy-feely. She was prickly as hell.

And then again there she was. With Dr. Stewart, she was actively leaning in, personal spaces overlapping. Then Peck laughed and smiled that same, honest grin she'd had at the bar the first night when she was checking her phone. It was a big, broad smile, the kind that you could find yourself dying to receive again and again, just to savor it from its rarity. In return, Dr. Stewart touched Peck's arm, not a friendly pat like McNally did, but a gentle near-caress of Peck's upper arm.

He caught sight of the edge of a smile on the doctor's face, a pleased smile, reveling in the reward of basking in the one from the blonde. With the grin still on her face, Peck leaned in and she kissed the pathologist. It was not a kiss between friends, it was an actual kiss.

Quickly he ducked into the Penny before they saw him, trying to wrap his head around that. Not that he cared if a Peck was a lesbian or that she had someone in her life. He'd heard her arranging a date for Saturday night, and that was probably her subtle way of letting him know that, yes, she had a life beyond Peck Policing. But that was really all he knew.

John realized he knew very little about her, besides her file and that she was a Peck. She didn't offer up much of her personal life to anyone. What he knew, outside the files, was that Gail Peck had a brilliant mind for police work. She was smart, but not just educated smart, she had the lettuce and tomatoes, as his father said. She saw the world differently than most people and John appreciated that. But the Peck under the badge was a mystery.

His head was snapped into the now when he heard his name called. "Hey, Simmons, come on over." Epstein waved at him. "Can we call you John? I mean, you're going to be Gail's work-husband, right?"

John sat down. "Sure. John is fine."

The younger patrolman grinned. "Great. Call me Dov."

"Dove like the bird?"

"No, d-o-v, no e. It's Hebrew for Bear."

Raising his eyebrows, John looked a little impressed. "Okay, that's a pretty kick ass name. John's boring."

"Yeah, but Gail can't give you as many nicknames." Dov shook his head. "Sometimes I wish I'd gotten the English name too. My brother, Adam, did."

John knew that feeling. "My grandmother always complained that my name was too European. She wanted me named for her father, Zhan."

"Zhan, John... Your parents ever try to say they meant that, but it was the hospital's fault?"

"All the time." They shared a smile. "Nicknames, huh?"

Dov nodded. "She calls Chloe 'Princess' and Andy's 'Girl Guide McNally' sometimes. They get worse the more you annoy her." Shaking his head, Dov added, "Oh and never play Death Domain with her. She's insanely good."

"The … video game?"

"Yeah. Chris and I used to live with Gail and she regularly kicked our asses at it." When John arched his eyebrows, Epstein- Dov laughed. "Roommates. I mean, she dated Chris for a while, but she's one of my best friends."

A beer arrived before him, as did Peck and Dr. Stewart. They were holding hands. "You need a better beer choice, Simmons."

"We're on to first names now, Gail," smirked Dov. "Hey, Holly."

"Hi, Dov," smiled the pathologist. She poked Peck's arm.

Rolling her eyes, Peck grumbled. "You already know him."

"I know Detective Simmons," confirmed Dr. Stewart. "Hello, John. Nice to see you again." She held a hand out and they shook.

His eyes flicked from their joined hands to Dr. Stewart's face and then to Peck's. "I didn't expect to see you here, Dr. Stewart," he admitted.

"Oh for... John. Holly. Gail. Everyone happy?" She grunted and sat down. "I swear, if I have to listen to you call me Peck all the time, I'll go homicidal."

"So...normal?" Holly smirked at the blonde and sat down beside her. "You're driving."

"Fine, fine." Gail did not seem to mind this. They made no bones or explanations about their closeness. There was a different sort of look to Gail's face around Holly, a softness that took the harsh edges and iciness of her normal demeanor and made them gentler without making her seem weak. Less brittle and more sharp. Stronger. It was a look he remembered from a long time ago, a million years. Once he had someone who looked at him with the mystery and wonderment of love.

He'd expected it to hurt when he saw it on his partner's face. Knowing he'd spend his days working hard with someone who was deeply in love might be a painful reminder of what he lost. But the last week had shown him that Peck- that Gail was precise about separating her work from her personal life. Many Pecks were not. Did that mean he had a Peck or a pussycat, though?

It was up to John to ask about the relationship when Holly went with Dov to get another round. "So. You and Dr. Stewart. How long?"

"A while." Gail shrugged. "Longer than I've been in Major Crimes."

He nodded. "Live together?"

"Yep." Taciturn. She was just not going to give him an inch.

John leaned back and exhaled. "I knew. I mean the gay. Don't care. You're not my type anyway."

And she laughed unfunnily. "Hah, everyone in this room has slept with someone else at Fifteen, John-boy. Your time will come and I will laugh."

There was a nickname. It wasn't too bad. "Dating in-house? Seems like a bad idea."

She smirked. "I didn't say dating." Peck ran a finger around the lip of her empty beer bottle. "Is this going to be a problem?" She didn't have to say what 'this' was. He knew she meant the fact that she was living with one of the best scientists in the province.

John studied the look of defiance on Peck's- on _Gail's_ face. This Peck bit. She fought back. She didn't make excuses and she didn't back down. Life had spat in her face a few times, clearly. He leaned back in his chair. Not a pussycat. "Does she push your labs ahead of everyone else's?"

And Gail snorted. "I wish. I'd get a lecture on short tandem repeats and how the mass spec needs to warm up."

Sighing his most dramatically, John slouched. "Well that sucks." His partner quirked a smirk.

They were laughing when Holly and Dov got back.

* * *

 _I didn_ _'_ _t ever really introduce John. He just was a person who showed up and everyone knew him except you. Here_ _'_ _s a little more about his brain._


	8. Dr Mom

**Chapter 08: Dr. Mom**

 **Type: Family / Hurt/Comfort**

 **Rating: T**

 _"One day when you have a child, and God help that child, you'll learn a little puke isn't so bad, Gail." So said Traci Nash in season two. It's possible that was a curse._

 _This takes place after chapter 100, but not by a lot._

* * *

Not taking the cooking class that year felt like the smartest thing Gail had done in a while. Her workload was high and Holly was off at a conference. She'd never have made it through her days with a class on told of it. That didn't stop her from experimenting with the recipes in the cookbook her mother bought for Gail's last birthday.

The art of French cooking, for Americans, had been fun to work her way through, even if Holly teased her as Gail and Julia. That had been such a terrible movie. Tonight was poulet au Porto. Gail was itching to make caneton â l'orange, but that would wait till Holly got home in a few days. That didn't stop her from picking up some ingredients in advance, as well as the needed items for that night's dinner, on her way to collect her child from the Best's house.

Sophie, flaunting her driver's license, had been drafted into picking the girls up after school. She had yet to complain about it, which took a load off all four parents. They had started to arrange their schedules so one of them always was free to pick up their girls, but when Holly was out of town and Frank had a big investigation and Noelle had a new rookie and Gail had a case... It got complicated.

She'd never have pulled it off without the teamwork. Their friends would pull an assist now and then, even Andy and Lisa were good for pick ups in a pinch. Gail grinned as she pulled up in the driveway. Things were good and working out, even if Holly was gone for a couple more days. "Bonjour! Où est mon singe?" she asked as Sophie opened the door.

"Votre singe est sur le canapé," laughed Sophie.

"Merci. Comment était l'école?"

"I'm starting Model UN. I'm Russia."

Gail nodded, having skipped that particular hell. Steve had done it at Sophie's age. Gail made sure to not get picked. "Modélisation des Nations unie, ou MNU. How's it going so far?"

"They won't let me invade North Korea, and I'm being sanctioned for the Ukraine." Sophie looked a little glum about it.

"I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to be playing Risk," teased Gail.

Sophie smirked. "What do you know?"

"I know your mom is on her way home, so get your math done." Muttering a curse, Sophie dove for her book-bag. "Okay, come on, Monkey. No more video games."

Her daughter was more quiet than normal as she turned off the game and trudged over. "See you tomorrow, Liv. Thanks, Soph."

Gail tousled Vivian's hair and asked, as they got to the car, "You okay?"

"I'm tired," admitted Vivian. She looked tired. She hadn't that morning.

"We should make an early night of it, then," decided Gail, making sure Viv was buckled in tight before sliding into the driver's seat. When Vivian didn't complain, Gail frowned. Was the kid sick? Or just worn out... Hard to say. Soccer had been pretty rough the last few days. They'd had today off at least. There was a game the week after next, and Viv and Liv were working hard to be starters.

They got all the way home and Gail decided to play it safe, ensconcing Viv on the couch with the evening news while she made dinner. Vaguely she recalled her parents making her run around and do things like clean the house if she came home a little tired. Other Armstrongs and Pecks might have cleaning staff, but not them. Well. Other Pecks could force their children to work through exhaustion. Not Gail. She was going to treat her child like a child and herself like a parent. Once the chicken was in the oven, Gail brought over tea for both of them and sat down with Vivian. "You can change the channel," murmured the girl.

Looking down, Gail shrugged. "I don't mind. Nice to see what the world is up to while I'm saving my bit of it." Usually Vivian argued to watch the news. They sat like that, Viv hunkered down in the couch, hugging her tea mug, until Gail smelled dinner was done. She pulled out the chicken and started to sort out plates. "Come on, Monkey. Let's get food in us."

"When's Holly coming home?"

"Friday." Gail let the chicken rest and walked over. She knew Vivian knew that. "Want to call her?"

Vivian shook her head and lay on the couch. "I'm not hungry."

Oh yeah, the kid was sick. "Yeah? Can you sit up for me for a second, Monkey?" Without much grumble, Vivian sat up and Gail pressed the back of her hand to Viv's forehead. "Anything hurt?"

"My throat feels funny," admitted Vivian. "The under..." She poked herself under her jaw. Gail felt herself in that place and then Vivian. There was a sort of weird lump. A firmness that wasn't there on one side. Gail recalled Holly checking herself like that once and citing it as a sign of infection.

This was not Gail's forte. " _I'm_ gonna call Holly," decided Gail, pulling out her phone. Holly was in Atlanta, Georgia, which meant she was in the same time zone, or near enough.

"Hello, sexy detective."

"Hello yourself, Dr. Mom. The things under your chin are lymph nodes, right?"

Holly was quiet for a moment. Years of Gail had apparently trained her just to accept random questions. "There are lymph nodes there, yes. Is this for a case?"

She nudged Vivian to lie down and pulled an afghan over her. "I wish. Viv isn't feeling so good, she's a bit warm, she's not hungry, totally wiped out, and her nodes are swollen."

"Have I mentioned I love that you give me a precise run down of things?" Holly sighed and Gail could hear her making a frustrated noise. "God, I hope it's not her tonsils. How's the inside of her throat look?"

Gail brushed Vivian's hair back. "Viv, how's your throat feel on the inside?"

"S'okay." On the phone, Holly asked if it hurt to swallow, which Gail passed on, and Vivian shook her head.

Holly exhaled loudly. "Okay, hold off on kiddie Tylenol until she's at least 38.5, make her drink lots of fluids, see if she'll eat soup."

"Damn, I made the Port wine chicken, too," groaned Gail and Holly laughed. "Well, I'm making you a special treat Friday, so don't miss your flight."

"Not for the world," promised Holly. "Put the monkey on?"

Gail handed the phone over and half-listened to Vivian's monosyllabic answers as she found the right medicine. Bless her wife. Holly was _not_ a hypochondriac, but she knew she ran a higher risk of catching weird diseases in the field, as did Gail arresting losers. They always had a small amount of every medicine; just enough to get you through until you could get to the pharmacy. She came down with a thermometer and fever reducers and got Viv a glass of water. The phone was handed back. "Don't worry about it," assured Gail.

"I'm not worried at all." Holly sounded like she was confident. "She sounds beat, honey. Keep her home."

"Oh that was a given, baby. Thanks."

"For being your personal doctor?"

"For always answering when I call you." The words were out of her mouth before she even processed what she'd said, but Gail realized how much she meant it. Holly was there for her and always, always, answered when she called. Even in the middle of the night.

There was a bashful silence on the phone. "Oh. Well. I love you, Gail."

"I know," grinned Gail, making a small plate of some meat and veggies for Vivian. Maybe she'd nibble. "I'm going to try and feed the mini-human and get her to bed."

"Okay, Han Solo. Want me to call you when I go to bed? We're about to head out to some barbecue."

"Sounds fun. Text me first, in case I fall asleep." They swapped I-love-yous and Gail brought two plates over. The in-ear thermometer made a quick test. Vivian was a little warm, but just under 38 degrees, it wasn't enough to justify meds yet. The doctor _and_ Holly had been adamant that treating a fever too soon made it harder for the body to fight off infection. Wait till 38.5 and then treat. "Well, you're not _that_ sick, Monkey. Do want to try eating?" Vivian shook her head so Gail put the plate on the coffee table and started to eat her own.

Halfway through the second show (a supernatural show about werewolves, who were apparently in again), Vivian started to pick at her food. She only ate a little bit, but at least she ate something. While Viv was showering, Gail called her boss and her partner to explain she needed a personal day. Butler, father of two boys with a wife with a busy job, was more than understanding about the problem. John, single and childless, asked if she needed anything, with the tone that made it clear he didn't want to have to visit the sick.

When the kid was dead tired, it made the night clean up surprisingly easy, even when Gail fit in some reading in Vivian's room, though not to the child. Viv just wanted to sleep, and at nine she sometimes claimed to be too old to be read to, but she was okay with Gail hanging out until she fell asleep. Sick kids were surprisingly tractable. This wasn't that bad at all. Gail even managed to get through her paperwork and a final phone call with Holly, making tomorrow look not too terrible.

She regretting thinking that at one in the morning when the sound of someone vomiting woke her up. "Jesus, Chris, I told you the meat cocktail was bad." Wait. The meat cocktails were years ago, and holy hell they'd been disgusting. But she didn't live with Dov and Chris. Dov and Chloe were living together with a baby ... Chris was dead... She had a house with Holly and a kid who was sick... And that meant wasn't just one of Chris's tramps who was tossing their cookies in a bathroom. Her daughter was puking.

Gail came awake in the rush that a decade of policing and a lifetime of Peck had hammered into her. Feet hit the floor and she ran to Vivian's bathroom before her head was really clear. The girl had made it to the toilet at least. "Sorry," mumbled Vivian before heaving again.

"Hey, hey, being sick happens. Don't be sorry." She rubbed Vivian's back. The dry heaves were, in Gail's opinion, the worst. Gail's heart was racing. She was in a state of adrenaline panic, wanting to magically fix all this for her poor kid, not being entirely sure how to, and worrying she'd need to whisk her off to the hospital. But logic sunk in. Gail was a cop. She could handle any crisis. Let her throw up, get her showered, get her back in bed and push gentle fluids, make sure she didn't have a fever, and keep on with that.

The poor girl was sticky with sweat and pale, and crying out of frustration. Gail didn't blame her. "I don't wanna be sick," complained Vivian, leaning against Gail.

"No one does," promised Gail, holding the girl close.

Once Gail was sure she was done throwing up for now, she hefted Vivian into her arms and carried her to the master bath. Her temperature was a bit over 38.5, so Gail dug out fever reducers and then helped Vivian through a shower. "I'm going to get you something to drink, Monkey," she explained, pulling one of Holly's comfy t-shirts over Vivian's head. You needed comfort when you were sick and Holly had the best shirts.

"What if I have to puke again?"

"I'll bring a bucket up." That won a smile from the girl. They had pedialyte in the fridge, since Holly thought coconut water and Gatorade wasn't always the best for rehydration and kids, and since Vivian played sports, she needed the help. Gail remembered Holly telling her that you had to slowly rehydrate when you were vomiting or, in the case of Gail, had a mild case of heat exhaustion after a softball game. After Gail was better, Holly nagged her about remembering to drink enough water at games, as well as pee regularly. She grabbed a small glass and brought that up with the bucket and the drink. "Okay, let's get a little into you, Monkey," instructed Gail, pouring a couple fingers. "Sip."

Vivian nodded and sipped the drink. "It tastes weird."

Getting in bed with Vivian's latest book, Gail propped up the pillows. "It's purple. I guess it's grape." She brushed Vivian's hair away from her face. The poor girl looked beat, but she did manage to make it through her drink. "You want to try some more or get some sleep?"

"Sleep?" She practically pleaded to be able to sleep now and Gail smiled.

"Okay. Put the glass down and curl up, Monkey." It took no more encouragement and Viv was snoring in moments. She was hot and uncomfortable, but she did seem to be able to get some rest. Gail slept more restlessly, waking up multiple times. When Vivian finally did wake again, around five, she threw up what little was left in her stomach. They went through the rounds of sipping more drink and Vivian fell back asleep. Gail, exhausted, dozed until the phone call from Holly woke up her.

"Hey, I wanted to check in before I left for the lectures," greeted Holly.

"Oh. She's puked a couple times." Gail checked that Vivian was sound asleep and got out of the bedroom. She detailed what she'd done for treatment, getting approval from her doctor wife. "And now she's tucked in our bed, snoring. I figure if she doesn't puke again next time she wakes up, we'll try some toast," yawned Gail.

Holly sounded sympathetic. "You sound beat, honey."

"I stayed up working on my notes. She woke up at one the first time."

"When did she last vomit?"

"Five-ish?"

"My poor girls. You should get some sleep too."

Gail eyed the time on her phone. "Yeah, I should. You sleep on the plane tomorrow. I might need backup when you get here."

Hesitantly, Holly suggested, "You may want to consider calling your mom."

"If it's that bad, I will. I think once the puking is done, we'll be fine."

Holly made a disgruntled noise. "Don't forget to eat, Gail. You'll get that migraine if you don't."

How well Holly knew her. Gail's metabolism had a price after all. Sometimes her grouchy behavior was just hunger induced migraines. Once Holly had connected the correlation and causation, she made sure Gail had breakfast with protein every day. She still regularly ate cheese puffs (because cheese puffs) but she ate very healthy. "I'm going to reheat the chicken."

"For breakfast?"

"Hey, I don't like eggs. Limited choices."

Holly laughed. "Alright. Try the sausage patties and a biscuit."

"I don't want to cook up anything greasy. The smell might set off Viv."

"True." Holly sighed. "You are so awesome, Gail."

"I know," she replied, smirking.

"And humble too."

"Yeah? Next time there's one AM puking, you get to help." They both laughed softly.

"How scary is it?"

Gail paused. "Terrifying. On par with you being sick, but not as bad because I can do something. And then... And then it's worse because I have to." She yawned and stretched. "I think I made it through on adrenaline."

"Get a nap in, honey," suggested Holly. "And call me when she's up?"

"I will. Love you."

"Love you, too."

Gail tossed the phone onto the kitchen counter and re-heated dinner to get some food in herself. There was no waking up noises from the kid, so Gail snuck in a shower and took her laptop downstairs to work on research for her latest case, after calling Viv in sick for school. Around nine, John texted to ask if she was holding up okay, so she explained the kid was puking. Another message went to Steve, saying she was home with a sick kid, and that resulted in a call from Traci.

"How bad is it?"

"Eh, not great. Out of curiosity, Trace, did you curse me?"

Traci laughed. "How would I do that?"

"Well Celery made Steve a magic potion to win you back..."

They both laughed at that memory. "No, Gail. I did not curse you. What brought that on? And are you _really_ home sick?"

Gail sighed. "Remember the guy who puked on my hair?"

"A billion years ago."

"Right, you said when I had kids, I'd figure out a little puke wasn't so bad." There was a pause. "Viv's got a stomach bug. Tossed her cookies twice last night."

Sympathetic, Traci asked, "How's her temp?"

"She had a fever last night. It went down a little by five. I'll check her again when she's up, but I want to let her sleep as much as she can."

"Probably best. Oh, and you're solo mom this week too, huh?"

"Loads of fun," agreed Gail with a yawn.

"Which means you're home sick," sighed Traci, in full understanding now. "Do you guys need anything?"

"Besides sleep? Nah. I think I'm going to make some chicken soup. I have some bones in the fridge." She'd saved it from the dinner last night so it wouldn't take much to boil it down.

Traci sounded a bit astonished. "It's so weird, you being all Suzy Homemaker."

Smiling, Gail started to pull the makings of chicken soup out of the fridge. "Hey, I told you I'd be an awesome mom. And as it happens, I'm an amazing wife."

"So's Holly," agreed Traci. "Okay, I'll go make Toronto safer. You go make that kid healthy. And get some sleep."

"Okay, Mom." They hung up and Gail carefully prepped her chicken stock. She really should make some and save it, but it wasn't like it was hard to do. Chicken bones in a boil mesh bag, veggies. Toss it in, let it simmer for hours, serve with fresh noodles or maybe those balls Dov made her once... The broth itself was probably all Viv could deal with right now, though.

Speaking of... Gail went upstairs and gently woke up the kid. "Mom, I'm tired," she whinged, cranky and sounding very much like Gail knew she did when tired.

"I know, but you need to drink some more."

"Can I go back to sleep if I do?"

"Sure." She sat with Vivian for an hour, supervising the sipping of Pedialyte and making sure there wasn't a repeat of the vomits. But Vivian seemed to keep it down and fell asleep against Gail pretty quickly. Amazingly she didn't even twitch when Gail checked her temperature again (God bless the in-ear thermometer).

That was pretty much how the day was spent. Vivian woke up every couple hours, drank something, and went back to sleep. Around noon she moved from the bed to the couch, which let Gail toss the sheets in the wash. Viv didn't even really want to watch TV, but Gail turned on CNN for her anyway. Holly called, twice, to check in with both of them. Only the second time did Vivian want to talk. The first time Gail tried to wake her but the girl hunkered and muttered 'no' loud enough that Holly heard and laughed.

Sadly there was also another round of vomiting, which didn't make anyone happy, and Gail spent the evening on the couch with Vivian's head in her lap, watching the news and trying to be comforting just by sitting there. Vivian only got crankier when Gail kept making her sip small cups of water and Pedialyte, keeping her hydrated, but the fever was staying reasonable and the liquid was staying down, which were good signs. Getting her own meal in was tricky, since she didn't want to fill the house with the smell of cooking, so she waited until Vivian was asleep and made a leftovers sandwich.

The second night passed with Vivian in the master bedroom again, but no more puke. She still looked a little hollow eyed and empty, but after holding down a whole glass of water, Vivian informed Gail that the soup smelled okay. Drinking a bowl was all the energy she had though, curling up on the couch and falling asleep so soundly that Viv didn't twitch when Elaine came by to check on them. Steve had told on them.

"Do you remember the Calvin and Hobbes comic from when Calvin is so sick he doesn't fight the doctor?" Elaine carefully pulled a second blanket over Vivian after feeling her head with the back of her hand.

"Sure," grinned Gail. "You're right, it's so true."

Elaine looked fondly at Vivian. "She's not particularly rambunctious to begin with. Not at all like you."

Gail pushed her hair back. "That's probably for the best. Could you imagine me or Steve all over again?"

Her mother pursed her lips. "I struggled the first time. I'm too old for that again."

"Yeah, but you could be the grandmother. Sugar her up and dump her back on me."

Elaine laughed. "I tried. She ate _one_ donut and then said she wanted to bring the rest home for you." Shaking her head, Elaine walked over to the kitchen. "It doesn't bother me, you know." When Gail looked quizzical, Elaine went on, "You and Holly adopting. Made sense for you two."

There had never been a moment where Gail wondered if her mother approved of fostering and adopting. But Elaine had come around to introduce herself to most of the children Gail and Holly had housed. She'd been different with Vivian from the start, coming over with clothes. "How did you know?"

"That you were going to adopt her? As soon as I knew who she was, sweetheart." Elaine started to make tea. "Holly wants to fix things, you want to protect them. She needed people like you. There was never a chance you were letting her go."

"You make us sound kind of like heroes, Mom," muttered Gail.

Elaine paused and looked at Gail seriously. "You are."

There was an odd warmth that Gail felt. Praise. Honest praise from her mother. She looked down at the kitchen table. "Well. Maybe I can get her to call you grandma one of these days."

She caught Elaine's smile out of the corner of her eyes. "However she likes. Leo still calls me Miss Elaine."

"Leo's got a driver's license. I think you're lucky he doesn't call you an old lady."

They chatted as Gail started to make egg noodles, talking about very little that was important. It was a nice aspect to their relationship. They could chat about life and it was pleasant. Elaine asked about Holly and sports, which still amused her. Gail asked if Elaine had met Rachel at the CF foundations. They talked about hobbies and tossed around the idea of going to see a concert en masse.

A sleepy girl's head poked up over the couch some time in the chat. "Mom?"

"Hey, Monkey. How're you feeling?"

Vivian looked a little perplexed. Bleary. "Hungry?" She rubbed her eyes. "Hi, Miss Elaine."

"Hello, Vivian," smiled Elaine. "Shall I bring you some broth?"

Nodding, Vivian replied, "Please?"

"And Pedialyte, thanks." Gail tossed the dough into the mixer. They tag teamed the food, Gail making sure Vivian actual sipped the soup and drink slowly.

This time, Vivian didn't go back to sleep immediately after eating. "When's Mom getting home?"

"Her plane lands at six, so she'll be home for late dinner."

"Are we having the duck?"

"Nope. We're having chicken soup. And maybe I'll make bread."

Elaine cut in. "Sorry, duck?"

"Mom's making orange duck for a surprise," explained Vivian, leaning over the back of the couch. "Are you not making it because I'm sick?"

Gail sighed. "It's too fatty, Monkey. Your stomach needs gentle food." Accepting that, Vivian sprawled back on the couch. "Caneton â l'orange."

"Impressive," mused Elaine. "You can make that all on your own?"

With a shrug, Gail let the dough mix and got out the makings for bread as well. "Cooking shuts up the nagging voice in my head."

Elaine seemed to accept that. "Why don't I babysit Vivian when you go pick up Holly?"

Gail waited a moment, to see if Vivian was going to complain she didn't need a babysitter, but there was silence from the couch. "That would be really great, actually," she admitted. "Or... Would you pick up Holly?"

As much as she wanted to pick up Holly, Gail felt a little more concerned for their daughter. Holly was an adult. Vivian was the child who'd had enough trauma for anyone.

"Will Holly mind?"

"Unlikely," mused Gail. "Hey, Viv. How much of a doghouse will I be in if I send Elaine to pick up Mom?"

Vivian's head poked up over the couch back. "None," she said firmly. "Less if I puke again."

Gesturing at the child, Gail put the noodle dough aside to set and started on bread. "You feel up for some crackers?"

"Can I have more soup?"

"Only if you finish another glass."

Vivian sighed dramatically, which caused Gail and Elaine to smirk. "I feel all gross."

"Two days of puking will do that to you. How about another bowl, then a shower?" Negotiations complete, Vivian made it through half of her second bowl of soup before falling sleep on the couch again. "Poor kid."

"The stomach flu's never any fun," agreed Elaine. "And throwing up always makes me feel so violated."

Gail felt the same way. "It's not actually the flu, you know." Her mother blinked. "The upset stomach and fever are a virus- never mind. Blame Holly."

Elaine shook her head, laughing softly. "You're very lucky to have found her."

"Don't I know it," Gail sighed. "I really love her, Mom."

"She's pretty amazing. Smart, a great investigator. Good looking."

"Sexy librarians," joked Gail. "Who knew that was my thing?"

With a sigh, Elaine admitted, "I suspected. You had the most adorable crush on your second grade math teacher." What the what now? Gail stared at her mother. "You did! Suddenly you had top grades in math, and I adore you Gail, you are disturbingly clever, but you hated math."

Blinking a few times, Gail processed that. "Steve said I only dated men because it was normal and expected..."

"That sounds rather right." Elaine sat down in Gail's comfy chair. "I used to worry that your dating habits were my fault. Because I didn't teach you how to connect with people."

Taking the seat by Vivian's head, Gail ran her hand through the girl's hair. "Holly's special, Mom." She smiled thinking about it. "I hate people, they generally suck, they're mean, and she's not." Gail paused. "I love her," she said, embarrassed.

Her mother just made a quiet noise of approval. "You should probably get a nap in, dear. If she's out, it may be your only chance for it."

She was probably right. It was lunch time. That could be a couple hours of napping. "That doesn't sound like a bad idea," Gail admitted.

"Give me Holly's flight details, sweetheart."

Gail texted the information and let her mother out before nudging Vivian over to stretch out on the couch near her. They'd picked up an L shaped couch after Gail and Steve managed to break the old one, wrestling, a year after Vivian had come into their life. The new couch Holly picked out as one that they could all three lie on together or not. Privately Gail wished she'd been able to spend more time making out with Holly on it, like she had the old one, but that would come again when Viv was a bit older.

Snagging an afghan, Gail tugged it over herself and relaxed on one length of the couch. She set her watch to wake her up in three hours, texted Holly to explain Elaine was picking her up, and promptly fell asleep. The nap wasn't quite as long as her body wanted. Gail struggled to climb out of the abyss of sleep, but she managed to get up, tidy the living room, and shower before Vivian stirred.

"Where's Miss Elaine?"

"She went to get Holly. You think you can shower on your own?"

Vivian made a face. She had not been a fan of Gail having to help her shower, but she'd not been in a position to argue. "Yeah. Can I have some more soup?"

"Sure." Gail watched the girl head upstairs and started on the bread. Soup and noodles were easy and ready to go by the time Vivian came back down, clean and dressed in sweats. Instead of eating at the sofa, Vivian climbed onto a stool and ate and chatted a little.

The smell of baking bread filled the house, making even Vivian perk up and ask if she could have some now or if they had to wait for Holly. Gail smiled and put in a second loaf. She was relieved Vivian was feeling back to normal, somewhat, even if she got exceptionally sleepy after the light meal. Gail's gentle suggestion of another nap was scowled at.

"Tell me a real story?" Vivian rubbed her eyes and looked at Gail thoughtfully.

"What's a real story, Monkey?"

"Something about you." Vivian yawned a little.

Gail looked at her daughter for a moment. "Okay. Once the whole police station was on lock down because a guy puked on me." That got her attention and Vivian listened to the story, laughing when Gail admitted how scared she was and how sure she was going to die even though nothing was wrong with her. It was funny now. It hadn't been at the time.

She ended up telling Vivian the safe stories about her career, like the arrest of Snakeface, or the time Oliver's daughter kicked her shin, while she cooked a dinner for four. Her mother was bound to stay for dinner and that was okay. Gail would get around to the fancy dinner for Holly on Saturday or Sunday, depending on how the kid felt. Instead a simple roast chicken with the soup and the bread would do. Steamed vegetables were an afterthought, but she had it all set up by the time Holly and Elaine came in the front door.

"Oh my god, the house smells amazing," groaned Holly, putting her suitcase down.

"Hi, Mom," greeted Vivian, curled up in Gail's favorite chair. "Hi, Miss Elaine."

Elaine smiled. "Hello again. You look like you're feeling better." She had a grocery bag. "We picked up your order, Gail."

Her what? Gail frowned and took a moment to kiss Holly before asking, "What order?"

The bag went on the counter. "From the butcher."

"Shit, did I forget..." Gail peered in and saw the duck as well as the beef.

"You did," smiled Holly. "I'm going to wash up. Elaine, are you staying for dinner?"

As Elaine hesitated, Gail handed her mother four plates. "Yes, she is. Grab a shower, Holly."

"Nix. If I do that, I'm never coming back downstairs." Her wife vanished upstairs, luggage remaining by the stairs.

Elaine smiled and set the plates on the table. "Laundry machine is in the basement, of course."

"Of course. Anything she needs now is in that backpack." Gail shook her head and put the meat away before helping her mother set the table. "Thank you for picking up the meat, Mom."

"It was Holly's idea. I _may_ have mentioned the duck."

Gail grimaced, "I was going to surprise her." Her mother gave her a look. Yes. She should have mentioned that. Shaking her head, Gail got out a bottle of red wine and three glasses. "My bad."

Putting out the cutlery, Elaine smiled. "You've had a busy two days. Speaking of... Vivian, dear, are you joining us for dinner?"

"Can I?" She looked so small and tired in the chair.

"How does the food smell?"

Vivian looked thoughtful. "Kinda good."

"Then you may join us, Monkey," smiled Gail.

Dinner was pretty quiet. Vivian ate very little and starting drooping, so Gail suggested she curl up on the couch. Moments later they heard the soft snoring and swallowed their laughter. There was something adorable about the nice end of sickness. Elaine did not linger, though she did insist on cleaning the kitchen and doing the dishes so the moms could relax.

By ten, the house was quiet, save for Vivian's snoring.

Since Vivian was on the short end of the couch, they curled up together on the long end, Holly as the big spoon, her arms around Gail. "Truth. How tired are you?" Holly's voice was warm in her ear.

"Beat," admitted Gail, closing her eyes and settling against her wife. "I did not want to get up from my nap." Holly murmured that she was sorry and started to toy with Gail's hair. "I had a way nicer night planned."

She felt, rather than heard, Holly laugh. "Your mom mentioned. That was smart to have her pick me up."

Gail felt the tension in her shoulders fade, just by being near Holly and having her touch her. "Mom offered to babysit, but I gotta say, I might have fallen asleep when driving."

"I wouldn't be any more awake," admitted Holly, her hand stilling. "We should go to bed." This was true, but Holly felt so good and warm and soft. "Honey, I want a shower and I want to be in my own bed."

"Ugh, fine," grumbled Gail, getting up. "I need another shower, too." She gently shook Vivian's shoulder. "Monkey, come on. Let's get in bed." Vivian barely argued, letting Gail lead her upstairs and tuck her into her own bed. She was asleep again in mere moments, before Gail had even finished tidying the room.

In the master bedroom, Holly was out of the shower and in an oversized T-shirt, sitting on the bed and brushing her hair. "Asleep?"

"Boom. Give me a minute, I'll be in there with you."

When Gail was clean, again, and curled up around Holly in their bed, her wife asked, "So what was the planned night? It involved duck."

"Fancy duck a la orange," yawned Gail. "And then you getting a nice hot shower in and sprawling on bed. I was going to massage you with lotion."

Holly groaned. "God, I get so dry on planes."

"You do," she agreed. "And then, maybe, if you weren't too tired, a little something something." There was a brief pause and Holly giggled. "It's not much of a plan," admitted Gail.

Holly squeezed her close. "I think it was a great plan. But I am too tired."

It did make Gail feel like a lazy bastard. Where was the woman who loved bars and beers and tequila? She was trapped under the warm arm of a beautiful woman who loved her, and she was damn happy about it. Healthy. Safe. Happy. Well... They were healthy, Vivian was still on the edge of feeling like crap. Settling down, Gail smiled as she drank in the smell of her sleeping wife.

Around two in the morning, there was a knock at the bedroom door. "Moms?"

Too well attuned to the latest happenings, Gail sat up a little sleepily. "Hey, you throw up again, Monkey?"

Vivian shook her head. "Can I get in with you?"

The idea of morning sex with her wife flew away sadly as Gail settled their daughter in the bed. Holly barely woke up, only enough to shift over and make room. The other two were asleep first and Gail sighed. As much as she missed the idea of going out with Holly and drinking and dancing and having loud and rowdy sex (or maybe sweet, sweet lady-love, as Chloe had put it once) whenever she wanted, she had a feeling of absolute contentment right in this moment.

Family.

A concept the Pecks had never prepared her for had turned out to be one of the best things on the planet.

* * *

 _Family fluff, with a dash of hurt/comfort tossed in. Nothing more._


	9. Lonely Spinster

**Chapter 09: Lonely Spinster  
**

 **Type: Family / Romance**

 **Rating: T**

 _Prompt:_ _"_ _Oh, I know u probably have all the fic done but... ok ,uh, now that she's single could by like 0,01% that Elaine also fancy the ladies? :D_

 _a girl can dream kkkk_ _"_

 _I did not answer that in the fic because it was about Gail and Holly. Now that you know more about Elaine, it's time to know a little more._

 _This takes place after the chapter_ _"_ _A Girlfriend Experience_ _"_ _by two years. It's 9 years from the end of "Out With The Old."_

* * *

Some of Elaine's favorite weekends were spent with her family.

That was a feeling she'd never had before, not even while Gail and Steve were children. Weekends were just two more days where she had to work. Now, mostly retired and a grandparent, she felt like the weekends where she spirited her step-grandson or adopted granddaughter away were some of the best ever. Leo had grown past wanting to hang, but even now that she was in high school, Vivian was perfectly willing to spend a day with Elaine, going shopping or having a lunch somewhere nice.

Today they had a lazy Sunday and sat by the lakeshore with ice cream, having had a nice long walk and talk about all sorts of things, when Elaine was struck by the realization that the quiet, suspicious child she'd met was now a sixteen year old. It happened when a young man on his bicycle slowed down to ask for her number, and Vivian laughed him off.

"You know, if I'm cramping your style, I can go," teased Elaine.

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Not interested."

She looked at the young woman and sighed. "I have absolutely no idea how to have this conversation."

"If it's the sex talk, I got that from Mom already."

"No, that's easy," admitted Elaine. "And I should hope Gail already talked to you about it. Are you on the pill?"

Her granddaughter nearly choked on her ice cream. "Seriously? I thought Mom was kidding when she said you got her a prescription when she was 14!"

"God no," she laughed. "The last thing I wanted was for her to end up pregnant as a teenager." It was in direct opposition to the rest of the Pecks but even Bill had agreed with her stance on sexual education. Their children would be educated and aware.

Vivian looked thoughtful and surprised. "Oh. Well. No. But I'm not … er …" A blush crept up Vivian's neck. "I'm not having sex," she managed, in a bit of a rush.

And Elaine understood that, even if it was wildly different from Gail at that age. Gail had informed her mother, upon the occasion of losing her virginity, that she didn't see what all the fuss was about. "Well. If you do, please be safe."

"If?" It was always interesting what words Vivian would latch on to. Her ability to pick out pertinent words from a conversation was second only to Steve's. That man always found the important phrases. Gail would just file it all away for later in her subconscious, but Steve saw and attacked it. Vivian latched on and pushed.

"If," repeated Elaine. "You don't have to."

The girl hunched her shoulders a little. "Oh. Alright." She kicked at the dirt a little as they sat. "It's not that I don't want to date anyone, or … anything. It's just … " She sighed. "I kicked that guy."

Elaine scoffed. "You were _twelve_. And he deserved it. You said no."

With a faint smile, Vivian nodded. "Sure, but it really made me think _why_ I didn't want to, you know?"

"Twelve," repeated Elaine, firmly. "Your mother broke a boy's nose at fourteen. And I believe she poured a hot pot of coffee in Nicholas' lap."

They both laughed. "I keep forgetting they went out. It's … I don't know. I can't see Moms with anyone else."

"Neither can I." In many ways, Gail and Holly were well suited for each other. It was was a relief that her daughter had found happiness at all, but especially that she found someone like Holly, who loved her nearly unconditionally. Oh, certainly Elaine had caught the edges of them fighting, like any other couple, but they were supportive and clearly cared deeply for each other.

She'd asked Gail, once, how she'd made everything work after a particularly interesting row over _Holly_ being reckless on a case. Her daughter surprised her, saying that she knew they'd fight, but they never did out of meanness or hatred. They loved each other, and as long as they kept that in mind, they could find their way back.

It was surprisingly deep.

And it identified all that had been wrong with Elaine and Bill. Well. Not _all_.

"What about you?"

Elaine blinked. "Me? Dating?"

Nodding, Vivian gestured at the park as if to indicate the world. "There's a whole world out there. Men." Vivian paused and then added, as an afterthought, "Or women."

That caught Elaine by surprise and she laughed. "I can honestly say I have no interest in dating anyone, Vivian. Romance has never been to my benefit."

Vivian wrinkled her nose. "Mom said you and Bill married because it was convenient. Which I thought was code for you were pregnant with Uncle Steve."

"No, Steve was a planned baby. Your mother was the accident." She smiled thoughtfully.

With a toothy grin, reminiscent of Gail and Elaine both, Vivian laughed. "So was Mom. Her birthday is 7 months after her parents wedding anniversary."

"She wasn't premature?" When Vivian shook her head, Elaine smiled. "Your mother was. Premature and a rather terrible pregnancy, actually. If that had been my first, there never would have been a second. She was months early and I spent almost a month in the hospital."

"That's… horrifying. Ugh, I'm never having a baby." She shuddered. "But… what does 'convenient' mean then?"

How did you explain that sort of thing to a teenager. "It means Bill and I came to an agreement we felt was beneficial to our futures."

The expression on Vivian's face might have been comical if it wasn't so depressing. "Wow," was all the teenager managed. "Okay, convenient makes sense." She shook her head. "Did you love him?"

"Once, I did." Elaine wiped the sticky traces of ice cream off her fingers. "He had the ability to be a very wonderful person." Looking at her granddaughter, she asked, "Did you ever meet him?"

Vivian nodded. "Once. He bumped into Mom at work and I was there." The girl looked up at the sky for a moment, frowning as she trawled through the memory from what seemed to be years ago. "All I really remember was she got pissed at him and told him he didn't get to just show up and try to be a dad. And he should call her."

The story was one Elaine actually knew. Gail had recounted it to her, still seething, a few days after it happened. All Elaine had advised was to listen if he tried to talk, but to make her own decisions. "He never did call her," sighed Elaine, sadly.

And that was the difference between them. Elaine knew what she'd done, she knew the consequences, and she accepted them. But she also wanted to be a better person and apologize, sincerely. When Gail started to talk to her, ask her for advice for work, they suddenly found themselves at a place where they could talk as adults. As people who perhaps liked each other. And now as family.

"Why'd you divorce him?" Vivian's question was innocent of Peck drama. For whatever reason, Gail had opted not to tell her the stories of what was, effectively, child abuse. The only Pecks that Vivian knew, like the only Armstrongs she knew, were the ones who had grown and changed and become decent people. Slowly they'd outlast the others.

Elaine exhaled loudly. "You know, my children never asked me that," she announced, realizing that truth in a moment. Patient Vivian just waited for the real answer, saying nothing more. "Bill decided it was easier to be the man his father wanted him to be, the Peck marionette, rather than change and be the father his children needed."

It was the easiest way to explain it. It was all Elaine had been able to understand at the time. Even now, with Bill dead for four years, it was hard to look back and contemplate. "Mom said he was racist and homophobic."

"He was," sighed Elaine. "You know your Uncle Al? When he married Laura, Bill stopped talking to him. Socially." Work was always a different thing. One thing you could say about Bill, he rarely let his bigotry impact the job.

Vivian scowled. "You know Mom isn't mixed race, right? It's just that Mom's so pale, she glows in the dark."

"I do know." Technically Holly had some Spanish Moor in her, which did make her mixed race, but she really wasn't that dark. Gail was just so pale. "Why do you call them both Mom? Doesn't it get confusing?"

"Hasn't yet." Vivian shoved her hands in her pockets, looking like Gail at that age.

That was true, realized Elaine. Holly and Gail always knew which one Vivian meant when she shouted for her mom. If it was shouting _at_ a mom, it was nearly always Gail. With a sigh, Elaine shook her head. "I'm very glad they kept you," she told the girl.

"I'm not a dog, Elaine," teased Vivian. That was the same joke Holly and Gail made. "Do you mind I don't call you grandma?"

Seeing as Vivian _did_ call Lily that, it was a bit odd. "You're welcome to, if you want. I can't say I haven't wondered why you don't."

The way Vivian tilted her head when she was thinking up an answer was pure Holly. "I did, actually. Once. It made Mom, Gail, look weird when I did. It was right after Bill died," she explained. "She got that look on her face, the one where she's scared and a little freaked out. Same as she had when Holly was sick. The one that means I'm not supposed to know about how scared adults get. I think saying it made her think about you getting older and maybe dying, so I decided it'd be better not to."

In general, one never got lengthy answers from Vivian. She wasn't exactly taciturn, just very collected and self-contained. In that way, Vivian was like neither of her mothers. Gail had always been gregarious and adventuresome, if cynical and bitchy. According to Lily, Holly had been awkward but friendly as a young girl, but very thoughtfully curious.

And their daughter was wary, introspective, and still, after all this time, distrustful of the world. She never put herself out into it unless she had to, as if certain she'd just get hurt. There had been a time when Gail did the same, hiding behind an icy demeanor and sarcasm and bite. Meeting Holly drew her out of that. She was still dark, but she smiled more honestly again. One day that too may happen to Vivian.

At least Vivian was more open with family, and there had been a brief period of time where she was friendlier to the world in general. Around seven or eight, she'd been fairly normal, if given to deeper thoughts. Then, around the time Gail's friend Chris had been in a coma, Vivian pulled in on herself. Elaine suspected it was directly related. Finally Vivian had seen her parents weren't infallible. Personally she wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

"That's very thoughtful of you," Elaine said carefully. She paused and turned to face Vivian. "You've grown up into a remarkable woman, Vivian."

The teenager blushed and looked down. "I have some pretty awesome examples."

"And some pretty terrible ones," smiled Elaine.

They both grinned. "Gail's pretty cool. You did a good job with her."

"Oh that was all luck, dear. I did a terrible job with Gail. Every possible way I could."

"You always say that, but she's awesome. Gail's like... My hero."

Of course, Vivian had never seen the broken Gail and Elaine, not really. She first met Elaine when there was a tenuous bond between mother and daughter, and called her a grumpy version of Gail. When Gail had panicked about Holly being sick, Elaine had stuck around and been supportive of her daughter and gotten to know Vivian as a friendly child. If she knew you. When she didn't, she reverted to the silent and wary.

That child gave way to a coltish youth who liked the out of doors and adventure. The youth became the young woman who wanted to go to a Police Ball or Fite Nite, just to see everything. And while she was invariably polite and friendly on the outside, she didn't invite a lot of people inside. Gail once said that getting to be inside and know Vivian made her feel special. Holly said the same thing about Gail. And then she likened Gail to a cat in a tree, which Elaine didn't fully understand, but smiled and nodded anyway.

Elaine smiled, "She would be very embarrassed if you told her that."

"She's pretty bad with compliments."

"Pot, kettle."

"Potato, tomato," grinned Vivian.

And Elaine laughed. "Since my attempts to sugar you up and drop you on your parents doorstep have, once again, been foiled, how about we pick up dinner?"

Vivian's hazel eyes sharpened. "Schwarma and falafel?"

"I don't see why not," grinned Elaine. She did text Gail to let her know they were bringing food and, when a reply was not immediate, dallied on the way to the car.

This did not go unnoticed by her grandchild. "Not answering the phone, huh?"

"They're probably distracted."

"They're probably having sex," she corrected. Nary an eye roll this time.

"Sex is rather fun," smiled Elaine.

Vivian eyed her now. "And yet ... Why aren't you dating?"

This time she was prepared. "Why aren't you?"

The awkward look hit Vivian's face again. "It's a thing."

"What's his, or her, name?" The skin on Vivian's neck went red and Elaine smiled. "You know your mothers do not care who you date, as long as you're happy and safe."

"I know," muttered Vivian. "It's not that." And Elaine waited quietly as the walked to the car. "I really suck at making friends."

Elaine paused by her car. "That's okay."

"Yeah, except if you date someone, what happens if they're your friend? I mean, I know Moms managed be friends before and after."

Snorting, Elaine pulled her keys out. "You're referring to the time when Holly was planning to move to the States?" When Vivian nodded she shook her head. "Sweetheart, I adore your mothers. They were never just friends. Gail fell for Holly hard."

Vivian screwed up her face a little. "But Mom said..."

"Gail holds the belief that she could have been friends with Holly across the continent. Ask Holly sometime. She'll tell you how painful it was."

The youngster exhaled thoughtfully. "Revisionist history."

"That would be my fault." Elaine held up the keys. "Would you like to drive?"

With undisguised glee, the sort that made one remember that Vivian really was seventeen, the teenager held her hand out. "Can you talk Moms into letting me on the course?"

Elaine buckled herself in. "That depends entirely on how well you drive today."

"Challenge accepted," grinned Vivian, and she started the car.

Halfway to the restaurant, Elaine's phone pinged. Gail was asking for the lamb.

 _And what does Holly want?_

 _The dark meat chicken. Are you texting and driving?_

 _Your daughter is driving._

Elaine took a photo of Vivian driving, looking rather serious, and sent it to Gail with the text.

 _Sorry, I'm officially old now, Mom._

It was quite adorable. "You're making your mother feel old."

"I'm pretty good at that," smiled Vivian. She turned down the road. "Love is hard, isn't it?"

Sighing, Elaine tucked her phone away. "Yes, it's very hard."

Vivian glanced over. "Moms make it look easy sometimes," she mused.

"You don't have to live up to them, you know."

"I doubt I could. I just don't want to disappoint them."

That sounds like Gail and Elaine sighed. "Sweetheart, you won't. I highly doubt Gail or Holly will be all that troubled if you never date anyone, or marry, or if you do. As long as you're happy."

Vivian's face set a little, as if she hadn't been talking about that at all. "Happy. Yeah. They make that look easy, too."

More than once, Gail had mentioned that conversations took odd turns with Vivian. Even Holly admitted she'd never really been able to dig into their daughter's head. That was when Elaine confessed she'd had the same problem with Gail. Boys were easier, or at least Steve was. He was simple and transparent. Gail had been, and still was, layers of complexity. She never admitted what she was really thinking or feeling.

When she'd talked to Lily about their daughters, Lily said her husband had always understood Holly. Brian and Holly had a connection, even though they were very different personalities, and they connected in a way Lily had sometimes been jealous of. But, Lily pointed out, her daughter was her own person with her own ideas and hopes and dreams. All they could do was hope they'd given her enough to succeed with.

It had to be harder, not having had the chance to help Vivian earlier. She still didn't talk much about her life before moving in with Gail and Holly. Once in a while she'd mention the other foster homes, but Elaine had never heard her talk about her birth parents. Neither Gail nor Holly pushed on the subject, telling Elaine that some things you just did not talk about.

Like Gail still didn't talk about her kidnapping. Like Elaine didn't talk about the divorce.

As they waited on their order, Vivian remarked, "Mom was telling me how you used to set her up on blind dates."

"I won't set you up," smiled Elaine.

"I heard about the poet and the guy with the fake accent."

"Ah, Winston. I still see him now and again," she laughed. "I was under the impression he'd been at Cambridge much longer."

Vivian leaned on the counter. "We could set you up," she offered, nonchalantly.

Elaine tilted her head. "You are really keen on me getting a date."

The girl shrugged. "You're alone a lot."

Narrowing her eyes, Elaine studied her granddaughter. Much of what the Pecks had beaten into her and, subsequently, her children had not actually been Peck raw talent but simply a great deal of work and effort. You had to practice at it, paying attention to the world and filing away what you saw. You had to keep your eyes open and let your mind continually process incoming data. It came easily to Elaine, which was why she'd chosen police-work as her stepping stone to success. It had been expected of Bill and their children. It had been required of her, to become a Peck, but she'd desired it so it was of no great effort. Or so it felt at the time.

In Vivian there was the same casual insouciance that Gail cultivated, sometimes colored with the 'dumb blonde' persona, but generally her daughter was careful to make herself look like everything was as natural as breathing, no matter how hard or painful it had been. That was her fault, hers for letting the Pecks control the future for her children. The Pecks demanded excellence with ease, no matter how much they all worked at it. Stupid Pecks.

But there was no way Gail had put that on her own child. True, Vivian had begged to be allowed to hike from town to the cottage when she was fourteen, but that had been her own demand, not Gail's. According to Holly, she'd had to force Gail not to try and track Vivian with a phone when they'd let her. That surprised Elaine, but Holly insisted that since if the kid wanted to try it then they should trust her and let her. Gail drew the line at a night time drop off in the middle of the woods, though, saying they'd do it together, in decent weather, or not at all. To that, Vivian agreed it was too dangerous and was fine not demonstrating that level of self-reliance.

"A very long time ago," Elaine said slowly. "Back when Gail was still a rookie with a tie. I came to the station for a special night, when we let the community in to see what we did." Vivian nodded quietly. She'd attended those nights since joining the family. "And I stole Gail for a bit, since I never saw her. She lived at home, but she was like a ghost. Always hiding away from us or vanishing before we were up in the morning, or staying at that horrible apartment with Chris and Dov. She was dating Chris. And I ... I thought she should reconsider. Because she didn't want to wake up in 20 years and regret her life."

Vivian licked her lips nervously. "I heard that once. Okie from Muskogee?"

With a thin smile, Elaine nodded. "I do wonder- I did wonder how the hell I'd gotten where I was. And if perhaps it was because my mother pushed me the wrong way." Elaine sighed loudly. "No, Vivian dear, if there's anything I know about myself now, it's that any future I have with romance is best left to fate and not any of my own planning."

The girl frowned. "Have you seen Moms' rings? The inside?" When Elaine shook her head, Vivian went on. "They're engraved. It's totally cheesy, but they say 'Plus Ones Forever.'"

That was something Elaine had heard the duo say more than once. When Gail went to a sports game with Holly, or Holly came to the ballet, the one who was less excited about the idea would say it. "They're each other's plus ones," Elaine said slowly.

And Vivian nodded. "I asked Mom, Gail, what it meant. She told me that life's way too long to go at it alone."

Profound. And certainly not something Gail had ever learned from her or anyone named Peck. "I'm not alone," countered Elaine. "I have Gail and Steve and all of you."

"You need someone to go to the movies with, go have fun with. Besides us. Someone who likes hanging out with you, just for you."

"I can't tell if you're implying you don't like me or if you're telling me to get laid," Elaine replied dryly.

Her granddaughter gestured a finger at Elaine's face. "You're where Mom gets it from." She picked up the large bag of food and smiled at the owner.

At her daughter's home, Elaine waited until Vivian slunk off to her room for whatever teenagers needed privacy for these days, and then casually mentioned the conversation. Gail rolled her eyes and apologized.

"She has a point," noted Holly, sipping her beer. "I mean, you're an attractive, healthy, woman, Elaine. Why not step out a little? Enjoy life?"

Elaine shook her head. "I'm really not interested."

Her daughter snorted. "Viv says that because she thinks we don't know she has a crush on a friend of hers." Both Gail and Holly shared a smirk. So they understood why their child was acting odd about dating questions. Good.

"I have no crush on anyone, Gail dear."

Gail looked thoughtful. "Mom. You know I don't mind, right?" Their eyes met and Elaine frowned. "If you date. Or have a plus one. I don't mind if you date. God knows you won't be betraying my memory of Dad or anything."

Elaine leaned back in her chair, looking over the yard. "I honestly hadn't thought about it that way, sweetheart."

"I'm just saying you're allowed to think about yourself, Mom," Gail said firmly.

They all fell silent, watching the late afternoon sun change the color of the yard, sipping craft beer. Elaine glanced over and saw Holly leaning up against Gail, knees pulled up, dark head resting comfortably against the blonde. And her daughter, her strange and brilliant and cynical daughter, had an arm around the older woman, holding her close as if it was the most natural thing in her life.

This was something Elaine never thought she'd see. Gail connecting with people, or at least a person, and being comfortable touching people. That was definitely her fault. There hadn't been enough touching of baby Gail.

"Gail," she said slowly. "Did you know you were never breastfed?"

Holly tilted her head to look up at her wife, smirking. "Well that mystery is explained," she teased, and Gail blushed. Slapping Gail's leg, Holly added, "I meant that you have trouble connecting with people. Scientific studies proved that children who aren't breastfed have issues."

Before Elaine could feel guilty, Gail snorted. "I remember when you read that, and they said it _might_." She kissed Holly's forehead. "I do so love your breasts, let's be fair."

Of all the taboo subjects in the Peck home, sex had not been one. "I should have seen that coming," smiled Elaine. "She was terribly unimpressed with sex, though I think that was Walter's fault."

Holly looked amused. "Walter? Your first time was with someone named Walter?"

Shaking her head, Gail sighed. "Yes, Walter Van der Pete."

"And he wasn't any good?"

"Unimpressive," Gail tipped her beer bottle at her mother. "Unimaginative. I mean, Nick was better and he was always just a kinda bad boy."

"He did look like the sex would be ... athletic," offered Elaine.

Gail shrugged. "He wasn't _bad_. Just turns out I prefer women."

Wasn't that a question, though. "Do you? Prefer women? I recall you said you were a lesbian, but ..."

Her daughter squeezed Holly's shoulder, looking introspective. "You mean am I gay or gay for Holly?" She shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"No," admitted Elaine. "Not to me. It never has." She looked at Holly.

"Doesn't to me," Holly smiled. "She's in love with me."

They did manage to make it look remarkably effortless. "Did your father and I ever make marriage look appealing?"

Gail shook her head. "I always thought I would get married to some socially appropriate moron who looked good on a resume." She smirked. "You do look awesome, by the way, Chief Medical Examiner Stewart."

"I knew you married me for my credentials." Holly sounded entirely nonplussed.

"Mom! I need help with my history essay," shouted Vivian, abruptly.

Kissing Holly, Gail wormed her way off the bench and obediently went inside, muttering about summer homework. "How do you know which Mom she wants?" Elaine was still mystified by that trick.

Holly looked at the house. "I don't know. We just do. There's something about her tone." Tucking her legs up under her, Holly made herself more comfortable. "Thank you for taking her out today. And letting her drive."

"Sometimes you need a break from being on the job," smiled Elaine. "Besides. I do like her. She's a wonderful girl. You and Gail have really raised a good person."

Unexpectedly, Holly blushed. "Thank you," she mumbled. "I feel like I'm guessing half the time."

"Everyone does." Elaine finished her beer and put the bottle on the arm of her deck chair. "Holly, may I ask you something personal?" The doctor looked surprised but nodded. "How did you know you were a lesbian?"

There was a brief pause before Holly's awkward side smile showed up. "Wow. Okay, didn't expect that. Uh, when I was making out with a boy. It was boring. Which making out with a girl had not been." Then, shrewdly, Holly asked, "Are you asking about Gail or...?"

Apparently not being a cop, but being very smart and married to one, had given Holly skills. "Your daughter informed me she thought I should date a man or a woman. Sometimes I wonder how you knew."

"I don't know how to explain it," confessed Holly. "It's just a thing I knew was true and right. Women excited me. Gail... Well she's probably bisexual, but it really doesn't matter. She's incredibly loyal."

"I always wondered if she was gay. As a child. But I worried more she'd never be able to connect with people properly."

"She doesn't." The simple, blunt, admission surprised Elaine, and Holly smirked. "She's terrible with connecting with people. Except ... She's not. She just isn't normal about it. When she does, though, when she decides to trust someone, you have to do a lot to get rid of her. Look at Nick."

Ah. Nick. "That was my fault, the first time. I take no responsibility for him deciding to go undercover."

Holly pursed her lips briefly. "You didn't make him, I think. Any more than you _really_ made me stay."

"Oh? Are you not angry at me anymore?"

"You're not that lucky. I'm always going to be pissed at you for that, but... I did think more about what leaving meant. Who I was leaving. Why..." Holly shook her head. "Now that I'm a parent, I understand why you did it. If it was Vivian, I'd get Gail to arrest whomever it took to make Viv smile again." With a large sigh, Holly added, "I'm glad I stayed."

Elaine smiled. "As am I. And I suspect Gail is as well."

Holly lifted her nearly empty beer in salute. "Don't do it again, though."

They both laughed at that idea. "That me is a long time away, Holly."

"Current you should think about the future you," the doctor opined. "Gail said you wanted to be mayor once."

She studied her daughter in law for a moment. "Future me will be very happy looking back at this current me, I think. I can tell you that I'm much happier than the old me."

Current Elaine Peck was a much happier, healthier, person.

Physically she remained in good shape, especially since Bill's death. That had been a shock to her system. As much as she'd been mad at him, his death left a gaping hole in her soul. He was the father of her children, and the reason she was much of who she was. To lose that, even when they'd not spoken in years, felt off kilter.

Mentally, she was possibly in the best place she could be, especially considering the circumstances. She finally understood much of herself, much of why she'd done wrong things, but also why she'd done some right things. It was late to understand herself, Elaine thought, though she was sure Gail wouldn't find it quiet so. Late self-revelations were par for the course in Gail's universe.

That did make her think about sexuality, of course. Elaine had seen the change growing in her daughter, years ago. There was a time when your child started looking at people differently, when they saw in others that which you saw in your spouse. Elaine remembered the exact moment when teenaged Steve's eyes widened, one summer up at the cottage, and he realized exactly what made girls attractive, especially when they were in skimpy swimsuits. But she also remembered the look on Gail's face, one Christmas, when she saw cousins a littler older than she was, dancing and kissing under the mistletoe.

As of yet, she'd not seen that look on Vivian's face, not even when the girl came to her first police gala a few years back. It seemed more that Vivian was keeping yet another thing to herself for now, even if her parents were aware of the situation. The question Elaine now asked herself was if she was keeping thoughts to herself, away from the others. Well. Not _that_.

She'd seen Holly and Gail both remark on attractive women, and intellectually she knew that women looked good. But they'd never made her turn her head. Besides, while it would be highly amusing to have one more late shock to her system, that was unlikely to be the case. If anything, Vivian might turn out to be a lesbian if only because of her issues trusting men. Elaine? Unlikely. She put the idea out of her mind. It really didn't matter to her any which way.

It was weeks later, at the firing range with Gail and Vivian, that it came up again.

Gail kept sticking her head around the dividers, looking down the line at someone between every round, until she finally gave up and walked to the end of the lanes to talk to someone. "Vivian, what is your mother doing?"

"Hell if I know," sighed the girl. "What am I doing wrong, Elaine?" Vivian held up her last target, gesturing at the clusters.

The next round, Elaine stood behind Vivian, helping her adjust her stance and aim. Gail went shooting every week, still, and since Vivian had turned 14, she'd come along. Every week. Elaine only joined them once a month, usually when Holly was off playing hockey.

"Two more, Mom, then we've got to go," Gail informed her, looking over Vivian's target.

"Who were you talking to?"

"Darryl. He's a teacher. I've seen him here a few times, thought he could use some pointers."

Elaine narrowed her eyes. "Gail. In the years I have known you, you have never offered to help a stranger."

"I can help people," snorted Gail, unconvincingly.

"She said help, not hell, Mom," quipped Vivian, smirking even after Gail gently buffed the back of her head. "Elaine said the sights are off."

"No, you're just left-eye dominant, doofus. Keep both eyes open. You're going to need to get used to this." Elaine watched her daughter explain why it was important to have both eyes open and concentrate on things properly. They started joking about how Vivian could try wearing an eyepatch to train her eyes before finally stepping back into their booths for the last two rounds.

In the parking lot, while Vivian reveled in getting to drive home in Gail's car (something that was still a treat), Gail handed her mother a piece of paper. "What's this?"

"This is Darryl's phone number. He was totally checking you out." Gail looked rather amused.

"And you're my intermediary because…?" Elaine scowled at the digits. Why wouldn't this Darryl person just introduce himself.

"You're a bit intimidating, Mom."

Elaine shook her head. "I'm not interested, Gail. Nice try."

And her daughter looked even more amused. "Mom. Do you have any idea how many people ask me if you're single?" When Elaine blinked, feeling dumbfounded, Gail went on. "You're good looking, you're funny as hell when you don't have a stick up your ass, and I can tell you from a _very_ disturbing experience in Vancouver that a woman like you won't be alone very long if you don't want to be." Gail made a face, as if remembering something unpleasant. "So if you don't want to, don't. But… I just wants to make sure that you don't end up a lonely spinster."

There was a distinct problem with having raised your own child to memorize conversations. Sometimes they did that back at you. "Gail. That was uncalled for."

"I'm not setting you up, Mom. I'm telling you… You know, my mother did this really awesome thing that I didn't even realize how cool it was for years." Gail looked over at Vivian, sucking on her lower lip. "See, she made me get off my ass and go out there. Every freaking night for a month, with some real duds, I gotta say—"

"Gail—"

But Gail kept on going. "But the thing is, without that, I don't think I'd have opened my eyes when the right person showed up." Gail tilted her head a little, a look that was very much Bill at his most endearing. The Bill that Elaine had liked a lot. "Everyone deserves to be happy, Mom."

Elaine sighed. "You make me sound like I had some grand plan."

Squinting at her, Gail smiled. "Pretty sure you did."

"Maybe," allowed Elaine, trying not to smile.

"Maybe," repeated Gail, shaking the paper at Elaine.

So she took the paper and blinked at the seven numbers listed, with Darryl's name as well as six other people, including someone named Maggie. "Seven people?"

Sauntering to her car, Gail tossed her reply over her shoulder, "There were more. I didn't like them."

"Pushy," sighed Elaine, watching her daughter get into the car. She couldn't help but smile, though. No doubt Vivian and Holly had a hand in the paper as well. Folding the paper, she shoved it into her purse.

That was a decision for another day. Another day she could sit and pour over what she wanted. Elaine had spent years wanting, chasing, success. She'd lusted for power and built a seemingly perfect life and then had it all come crumbling down. She'd used people, including her children, as stepping stones for her dreams. After that, the only dream Elaine had was to befriend the wonderful adults her children had become.

She'd known that her daughter had been fostering. She knew Gail still wanted to help children who were in need. And Holly ... Well Holly wanting to do that as well was a bit of a surprise to Elaine, at least. Either Gail had worn her down or presented an option Holly had previously not considered. Based on what Lily told her, it was a bit of both. Gail had always gotten along well with children, so Elaine's fears of her daughter being a parent were two-fold. Would Gail be able to do it without fracturing more under her perfectionist complex (which was all Elaine's fault anyway) and would she be able to connect with the child when it was a teen or an adult.

Without Holly, the answer might have been no. With, though, they balanced each other out. And Elaine felt herself lucky that she had them in her life. She felt lucky to have Steve and Traci and Leo, who still insisted on calling her Miss Elaine, or ma'am. They were all good people. Smart people.

A week later, she hadn't called a single number. Steve texted first, asking if she needed him to run a background check. Elaine asked why he hadn't already and Steve admitted that, yes, he'd done so before Gail gave Elaine the numbers at all. Of course. Next, Traci called to tell her Steve was an idiot and she would remind him to be less Peckish. Also that Elaine deserved to be happy too, even if that meant telling her kids to shut up. Gail brought it up at dinner only to have Holly roll her eyes. Vivian had the grace to look sheepish.

But. She did call a number. Eventually. In her own time.

It was just a get-to-know-you date, nothing more, and nothing serious would come of it. It was mostly nice to know your family wanted you to be happy.

* * *

 _No, Elaine is not a lesbian too. She is getting back into the dating world in her 70s. What a trip that would be to try!_


	10. Kill-Shot

**Chapter 10: Kill-Shot**

 **Type: Angst / Hurt/Comfort**

 **Rating: T**

 _Gail kills a perp. Or did she?_

 _This takes place in the summer before Bill dies, but after Lesbian Bed Death. Vivian's 12._

* * *

Cordite.

Gunpowder.

You actually didn't smell either of those anymore. Neither were common in modern bullets. Instead you had dinitrotoluene, which she knew was used to control the burn rate of the powder. Ammonia type smells from a mess of amines.

But when she smelled the air, Gail's brain said 'cordite' even though it was wrong.

The sound from the gun faded before the pounding of blood in her veins stopped being so loud. Her vision stopped having that weird hue where everything was too sharp and crisp. Adrenaline. Right. That's what it was. Gail slowly drew a long breath and lowered her gun.

She was on one knee, turned away from her original target who was most certainly dead. To her right was a dead man. To her left was her partner, similarly on the ground. Her hands were stinging with the feeling of having fired her gun, nearly as much as her ears rang from the echoes.

"John?"

No answer. Crap.

She dared not close her eyes, instead letting her senses kick in fully. What did she hear? Not much. Gunshots in an enclosed space were a bad idea. What did she smell? Gunshots, again, but iron. That metallic tang that was identifiable and familiar in a bad-memory way. Blood. What did she see? Gail swept her eyes left and right and there the idiot kid was.

The dead kid had a puffy jacket on, in the mistaken belief that they stopped bullets by causing them to expand... Or maybe he'd thought they were cool. The black jacket hadn't helped him at all against two rounds. Gail studied him for a moment, the gun far away his hand, and turned away to look back the other way.

There was John. Face down on the ground, hands out, gun still gripped in his hand. Gail felt her mind swimming a little, her hands went clammy. Oh god. How could he be shot? The shots came across, in front of her, scaring the hell out of her. John was on the other side. Had she heard it wrong? Three shots. Two holes in the perp. And John was down. Gail fought her panic to remember the other sounds. The sound behind- no _after_ the pop-pop-pop. A thud.

What had happened? She remembered the dead man, barely a man, only just not a child with that face that still had the roundness of youth. He'd not aimed at her or John. She'd aimed at him, but the shots went off and the kid went down and she dropped and turned and fired at … No, not John. John was too far left for that. She'd have had to pivot. She didn't shot her partner.

She carefully holstered her gun and took three steps to crouch by her partner. The back of his head was coated in blood, staining his shirt and coat collars. But John's pulse was strong and there were no bullet holes in his back. Thank god. Her blood pressure went back to normal, making her woozy. Gail eased the gun out of his hand and pulled out her phone, crossing the room to verify that, yes, the perp was dead before phoning in the situation.

It took her a little while to get to Butler, but he listened to her report and said he himself would be there with the Ds and forensics.

Gail tried to think of the last time she'd had to sit like this and wait... Never like this before. She'd waited on a bus a dozen times, waiting for EMTs and other officers. Waiting for someone to collect a body, she'd done that too. Even waiting for someone to help her with a wounded officer wasn't novel.

And yet this was different.

The EMTs got there first, checking John's vitals. His pulse was strong (which Gail had known) and the bleeding was normal for a head lac (again, Gail knew that, thank you Holly) but he was out cold which wasn't good at all. Memories of Chris wrestled with Gail's nerves. Her nerves were frayed before she'd found her partner unconscious and checking him while looking for a perp didn't help. Spending half an hour trying to carefully wake him up, unable to call Holly for help, was tense. But.

Guns had been fired and a man was dead.

Oh, Gail knew too well what came next.

The EMTs checked out Gail too, making sure she was alright except for a little ringing in hear ears. But really everyone was more concerned with John.

"Whoa, is that Justin Kino?"

Gail looked at her boss, sitting in the window sill. "Yep."

"What happened- no. No, don't talk to me. Or anyone." Butler turned and eyed John as the man was carefully loaded into a stretcher. "He wake up?"

"No, sir," grimaced Gail. She almost told him what happened, but SIU would want to have a go at her. It didn't help that she was really unclear to what had actually happened. "Any idea who I'm getting?"

"Fernandez or Allen. How come you don't have any Pecks over there?"

She smiled. "If we retire, we don't come back." Maybe she would, in a million years, though. Seeing as she was breaking every other Peck mold. "You think a Peck could ever be impartial?"

Butler smiled thinly. "Maybe you." The EMTs called him over and Gail was not surprised that he went with them to the hospital, leaving her under Griggs' auspice until SIU came to yell at them for letting John leave. Even though they had his service weapon in an evidence bag. Even though the techs had swabbed his hands just in case, checking for GSR. And even though he was unconscious.

"Fine," grumbled Allen. He was clearly not a fan of anyone right now. "Get her to the big building and no talking to anyone."

Silently, Gail nodded, shoving her hands (which also had been swabbed by the nerds) in her pockets as Allen walked over to get statements from forensics. Beside her, Griggs snarled. "What a prick. You call the wife?" Gail shook her head. "Right. Of course not. She's going to hear you're in her building."

She checked to make sure Allen couldn't see her before replying, "Yeah, and SIU means I can't tell her anything. So unless you're suggesting I just make out with her in interrogation..."

That was funnier to her and Holly no doubt.

Griggs acknowledged the fact as what it was, however, and nodded. Without another word to Gail, he made sure the scene was covered and took Gail to the main building. SIU was ready for her, hustling her off to a room, but she had the feeling Griggs was going to go talk to Holly about exactly what had happened. They were a strange family, the Major Case Squad. They were not particularly close and familiar, they rarely seemed to be interested in each other's lives, but they were all aware of things and made sure each and every person was alright.

She was still like that with her rookie class. Belatedly, Gail realized how much her friends were going to be up in her face checking on her. Crap. She'd almost rather deal with SIU.

"Detective Peck?"

Looking up at Allen, Gail nodded grimly. "I'm ready, sir," she said quietly. Round three with SIU. Round one had been an unmitigated disaster. Two had gone to Gail, through some wild fluke. Three ... Ugh.

"Did you get anything to drink?" He was playing good cop, clearly. She held up her bottle of water, not giving an inch. "Excellent. Let's get started." Gesturing, Allen ushered her into the office. "You've done this before..."

"Twice," noted Gail, sitting down in the offered chair. "But you knew that." She really just wanted this to be over.

Allen huffed, annoyed, and set up the camera. "Don't think I'm going to go easy on you because you're a Peck."

Interesting. "Is that on or off the record, sir?" Intellectually, Gail knew not to poke at people like that. But damn it, it was so much more rewarding than sitting and taking their stupidity. She resolved to say nothing more until the video camera was on, however. There was always the possibility Allen was one of the many anti-Pecks out there.

That had remained the worst thing about her name. The Peck Dynasty was to its end. Certainly hundreds of them had served Toronto, and would continue to do so, but there were less than 25 active Pecks still copping around right now, and the number was dropping. Fewer Pecks had kids, fewer Pecks forced their children into service. Izzy was an artist, her sisters still had no idea. Leo wasn't going to be a cop, he loved computers. Sophie wanted to be a lawyer. Olivia and Vivian were still too young to really consider their future.

She was not raising Vivian as a Peck, that was for sure. At that age, at eleven, Gail not only knew she was going to be a cop, but she knew what that meant. She'd already seen death in uniform by her daughter's age, in a much different way than Viv had. Poor kid. While her adopted daughter had come out of her shell in many ways, she was still a very self-contained person, prone to closing people out. With family and some of her adult friends, there seemed to be a level of comfort and freedom with the adults that weren't there even with her best friend Olivia.

"Are you ready, Detective?" Allen jarred her out of thinking about her family.

"Yes, sir," nodding Gail firmly.

He reached over and turned on the camera, checking everything. "This is Investigator Jim Allen, SIU, with Detective Gail Peck, Fifteen Division, assigned to Major Crimes in Organized Crime." He cleared his throat. "Detective, what happened today?"

Leaning back, she looked at the table for a moment. "My partner, Detective Simmons, and I were working on a joint case with the Guns and Gangs. There's been an increase of guns being pushed at some low rent housing facilities. I have a CI there, reliable enough, so I was assisting as a contact for some pushers. Early this morning, my CI called me saying she had a line on something. It sounded like the guys we were after, so I took the information."

Allen was taking notes. "Your CI... How long have you had her?"

"Just about four years." The SIU man nodded and Gail went on. "We checked with the drug squad, just to make sure there was no overlap, and went to the residence at, ah, eleven fifteen."

Again Allen interrupted. "You're sure on the time?"

She'd had to break a lunch date with Holly. Oh yes, she was sure. "Yes, I am. We got into the car, John's car- Detective Simmons' car, at a quarter till."

"Does he always drive?"

"No. He won the coin toss on Monday."

Allen looked up slowly. "Detective, may I remind you we're here over the death of a civilian?"

"It's not a joke. We had a coin toss bet on Monday. Loser has to buy lunch all week, winner drives." It had been a very slow week, frankly, and it was that or they starting trying to teach Gail about sports. Again.

Studying her face for a confused moment, Allen went on. "You took Detective Simmons' car."

That was her cue to continue. "We arrived at the location and it appeared empty, deserted. My CI had said there'd been a blue Ford SUV jammed in along the side. I found tire tracks matching that description."

"You could tell it was a Ford SUV? And the color?"

"I could tell it was an SUV versus a truck based on tire width and impression depth. The color matched the scrape on the wall for Ford Electric Blue, which was pretty popular a couple years ago for some gangs. The color wasn't very reflective. It was a tight fit, which supported the claim that it was jammed up in there. They would have had to flip the mirrors in on a Ford Explorer." Gail felt her face tighten up into an expression of defiance. Of course she knew how to tell what kind of car it was likely to be. That was her damn job. Be smart. Know what she's looking at. Get enough probable cause that the evidence collection supports the theory and you get a tight warrant.

Allen scratched a note down and nodded. "I see. But the vehicle was gone."

Gail rubbed her thumb against the groove where her ring sat. She'd not put it back on yet. "Right. The SUV was gone, but the tracks were still fresh, so I called in and asked for a patrol to sweep the area while we checked out the residence. John- Det. Simmons went in the front, I went in the kitchen door on the side. Both doors were unlocked and there were shoe prints, but there was too much mud and dirt to see if they were as fresh as the tire impressions. We... _I_ tried to avoid them, so forensics would be less affected."

"Do you remember the layout of the house?"

"Sure. Yes, yes I do." The investigator slid over a piece of paper and Gail quickly sketched out the floor-plan. "I came in-"

"Hang on." Allen picked the paper up and held it to the camera to record it. Then he took a photo on his phone. "Here, use this," he said and handed over a red pen.

That made sense, realized Gail. "Right. J- Det. Simmons came in the front door." She drew his trail. "We could see in the living room from the window, so the plan was to meet in the dining room and explore the back bedrooms together. I came in here," she tapped the back door and paused as Allen adjusted one camera to focus on the paper better. "As I reached the entrance to the dining room, I heard a noise."

"Were your guns out?"

"Per protocol, yes." Without thinking, Gail found her hands miming the way she'd held her gun, finger off the trigger. "The dining room door way into the kitchen was at an angle. I couldn't see the living room, and we - well. I didn't know there was _another_ door to the bedroom hallway from the living room. I couldn't see if from the front window or the kitchen, where I came in." She tapped the pen where she'd stood. "It sounded like a door, so I stepped further in to see if it was John- Det. Simmons."

She paused, bringing the memory up as best she could. The adrenaline had hit a moment after, which did funny thing to how you viewed the world. "It wasn't him, Det. Simmons was just as confused as I was. We decided to go into the back of the house. I went first and I turned a corner to see Justin Kino. He had a gun out. I brought mine up and told him to put his down. We shouted that at each other a couple times, he lowered his gun. And then three gunshots."

"Can you describe them?"

Gail closed her eyes. "One-two-three, in a row, not like a double tap, but like someone jerking the trigger like an idiot. They came from behind me. In front, Kino raised his gun right before them, but he flew back before he could shoot, it was over in a second. It was _loud_. The room, the hallway had this echo. And I heard a thud behind me. Maybe I felt it. I don't know that I _heard_ anything."

"How many shots did you fire?"

"Two." She could still feel the sting. It had to be psychological. "The rounds from the shooter, the thud, and I turned back to the door. I saw a person backing out the door and fired at him."

Allen muttered something and then asked, "What was the shooter wearing?"

She frowned. "Black— No, blue hoodie. Dark blue, but it had a white zipper. Something kind of American Apparel. Cheap and thin, zipped all the way up with the hoodie on. Blue jeans, medium blue. Sneakers. Black with a white sidewall. Hands were white. Something dark— red on his right hand. Gun was in the right hand, aimed past me, over at Kino. Gun was black-grey. I think it was a Kel-Tec 9-mil."

"Sorry— You could tell the gun make?" Allen sounded dubious.

Gail opened her eyes. "I'm a Peck. Yes, I saw the gun. It's the same as my sister-in-law has." Traci had said it was a Peck gift from Elaine. A nice backup piece, but Gail liked hers better.

The SIU investigator frowned but went on. "And your partner?"

"None."

Allen stared at her. "Sorry. None?"

"You've got his gun. Full clip. He never got off a shot."

"And you didn't shoot at Kino?"

"No. Kino didn't aim at me. He swung his gun to the side, presumably to the guy who shot _him_. I was in front. My job was not to take my eyes off Kino."

"What if he was aiming at Det. Simmons?"

"He wasn't. Angle was wrong." Gail looked at the pens in the jar and reached over for more colors. "I'm blue, John's black, Kino is green." She drew out Xs for all of them. "John was wide and to the side, coming in so he could keep an eye on the long hallway. I was tight on the wall here, in case some loser busted in the back door after me. Kino was coming from the bedrooms. He was aiming between us, so whoever popped him came from the front door."

"He could have been swinging around-"

Gail cut Allen off. "He _wasn't_. The gun came up, straight, his feet were flat. He'd have had to turn his whole upper body to peg John. And he was aimed away from me, who was his dead on." She tapped the paper with her finger. "I had to do a full body pivot to get off a clean shot. Kino was even with me."

There was a brief pause and Allen nodded. "Did you try to go after the shooter?"

"No. My first ... I checked on my partner first. Then I called for a bus and checked on Kino. I didn't leave the scene."

They went over the events a few more times before Allen finally excused her and said they'd call her with the results, but to take the rest of the week off. It was hard to say if shooting or not shooting her gun was going to be an issue. In so far as killing a civilian, a ballistics test would exonerate her and John right away. In so far as negligence leading to the death of a civilian, criminal or not...

Gail shoved her hands in her pockets and took the elevator up to the staff offices. She knew where Griggs was going to be, and that was the next conversation she should have anyway. Still, she paused at the assistant's desk out of courtesy (don't burst in on your wife at work). "Hey, Katie. Is Dr. Stewart in?"

"Detective Peck, she's with another detective right now."

Glancing over, Gail was mildly surprised to see the door was shut. "Would you tell them I'm here?"

Katie obliged, telling Holly that Detective Peck was there. She liked Katie. The woman always knew when they were being professional or when Gail was popping by to see her wife. "Go on in," smiled Katie, looking a little concerned. No doubt Holly was tense on the phone.

In the office, Griggs had the couch by the window. "Peck, did you know you can kinda see our roof from here?"

"Yeah," smiled Gail. "I keep telling her to get a telescope."

Holly was sitting on her desk, looking concerned. "Then I'd worry more when you guys ran out on some call."

"We're not firemen," Gail snorted. She rocked on her heels. "I'm on leave the rest of the week. Did anyone call about John?"

Nodding, Griggs held up his phone. "Awake, alert, ten stitches, and a killer headache."

Gail exhaled, feeling relieved. "Good. Will I be allowed to see him?"

"After SIU clears you." Griggs stood up. "Call for a relay back?"

"Yeah, they've still got my piece." The big man patted her shoulder as he walked out, thanking Dr. Stewart for her time, and closed the door. "Hey," she exhaled, looking at Holly.

Her wife was tense but not scared looking. That was a good thing. "The fact that one of your friends showing up no longer terrifies me actually has begun to worry me," sighed Holly.

Gail snorted. "Griggs is Butler's old partner. He's no one's friend, he's just... He's like the ancient cop you have in every horrible TV show."

"Oh so he's your Provenza?" Holly smiled softly and help her hand out to Gail. "Come here." Gail took the hand and stepped up so they could touch foreheads. "You okay?"

"Eh," sighed Gail. "The gunshots scared the shit out of me."

Holly's hand squeezed hers tightly for a moment. "Can you tell me what happened?"

She probably shouldn't, but that rarely stopped them. "Someone hit John and shot the guy we were looking for while I stood there, as useful as a tit on a bird. I got off a shot at the guy, but …"

"I really don't want the other situation," muttered Holly.

It was a little painful that her wife had learned cop shorthand. "I don't want to shoot anyone either," agreed Gail. It was so final, so horrifyingly ending. You shot someone and that was it, their life was over. "I'm a little freaked. I thought John was shot at first."

The soft reply, "Honey," felt like a gentle hug. Those verbal touches were one of the things that drew her to Holly. "We should go to the batting cages tonight," she suggested.

Gail's reflex reaction was to say no, but weirdly it felt like the right thing. "Okay."

Pulling back, Holly looked surprised. "Okay?"

"It sounds like a better idea than drinking," joked Gail, and she leaned in to kiss Holly softly. "Will you get the kid? She'll know I'm tweaking just looking at me."

While Holly didn't argue that, she just asked, "Do you want to stay here? Relax and then come with?"

"No. I'm going to get a relay back to the station, get my stuff, and then ... Go home and cook something I guess."

Holly pursed her lips. "Can I say that I like that?" There was the hint of a smirk in on Holly's face, though a bit chagrined. "I mean, I hate you feel like that, but your cooking gets really good when you're stressed."

Smiling back, Gail shrugged. "I think that's okay." She wanted her gun back, but that wasn't going to happen any time soon. They'd have to check on the building to see if she'd hit wood. She didn't remember hitting the perp, but that didn't mean much. There certainly was no blood trail leaving the building, which meant she'd missed. Damn it. She really wanted to go back to the range and practice, while at the same time she wanted nothing to do with guns for a while.

Her ride back to the station was Gerald, who had learned the common sense not to bother Gail when she was being introspective. But he did ask two things. "You wanna stop and get Timbits, Detective? My treat."

"No," sighed Gail, shaking her head.

"Sure. Sure." Then he dropped the second question. "You okay?"

She eyed him, scowling. "Gerald, just drive."

As she went to collect her things from upstairs, Gail heard Gerald warning the others that she was in a bad mood. He was certain because she didn't want donuts. Upstairs, the room was that odd mixture of silent and hectic that happened when an officer was down. Gail kept her head down, collecting her laptop and shoulder bag, hoping to avoid any serious questions.

"Peck, heard you froze."

Glancing over, Gail saw one of her more annoying coworkers smirking. She shook her head and did not reply. It was hard not to want to rise to the bait, but at the same time Gail did wonder if she froze. Did she miss on purpose? Could she shoot someone? She didn't want to ever have to kill anyone. It was such a TV trope for officers to kill with flagrant disregard for mental health.

She caught a look from Griggs out of the corner of her eye. The big man rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Barry," he said to the other officer.

Shaking her head, Gail zipped her bag up. "Active case," she said loud enough to be heard. "Anyone wants to chat, I'm sure SIU would love a sit down." That clammed the room up and Gail made her way out.

The house was, predictably, empty at the hour. It was too early for the kids to be home from school, after all, so Gail put away her gear, changing out of her blazer, and stared at her laptop. Work was out of the question. The fridge had some notices stuck up, including one that informed her about the farmers' markets on Wednesday and Saturday. They usually made the weekend one as a unit, walking around and trying all types of foods.

She'd never actually gone on her own. Before Holly, Gail saw things like this to be unbearably dumb and hippy. But with little else to do, she grabbed a couple mesh grocery bags and walked down. The weekend crowd was more family oriented, with music and sweet foods. This was a professional chef paradise. Gail saw at least four chefs from the fancy restaurants she loved to go to.

So Gail watched them, studying what they picked, and chatted with the sellers. Those people knew her, recognized her at least, and asked after her wife and daughter. Gail collected a few things she'd yet to try cooking, as well as really awesome looking cheese and spinach pastry. She brought those home for the family. Most of them. She may have eaten one while walking around. Or two.

Just as she put the treasures away, her phone rang. "Hello, wife," she grinned.

"Hi, Mom. We're pulling up outside. Come on out."

Gail peeked out the window and saw her daughter in the passenger seat. "Want a snack?"

"God, yes."

Grabbing the food and drinks, Gail piled into the back of Holly's SUV. "How come I have to ride in the back?"

Vivian stuck her tongue out. "I'm tall enough." At twelve, Vivian finally surpassed her friends in height and was allowed to rid up front. She was also the proud bearer of a permit to use a firearm, though not own one, and had been vocally angling to ride with Gail on the police course. Ever since the stupid assassination case, Viv had wanted to know about Gail's job.

At the same time, the girl kept her thoughts to herself a lot more. There had been a brief couple years where she was chatty, but then she'd shifted into a odd friendliness that did not involve telling anyone about herself. Most of her new Jr. High friends hadn't known she had two mothers until Gail and Holly showed up together one afternoon. They'd not pushed about it, just asking if everything was okay, and Vivian admitted she didn't want to have to be _that_ kid all the time. She hated being the girl who was in foster care or who had dead parents, and just wanted to be a little normal.

"Whatever those are, honey, they smell amazing."

"Spinach and cheese pastries. Came with a recipe." The recipe wasn't even very hard. Gail was sure she could pull it off, even with her limited baking skills. That had been her least favorite part of the cooking classes.

Holly was smiling, though a little thinly. "You need to learn some less fatty cooking," she complained.

At 46, Holly had gotten pickier about her food. More conscious about her weight and health, Holly's concern had washed over to Gail as well. "Hey, those home made cheese puffs were low fat, low cholesterol, and damn awesome," grinned Gail.

Her wife looked up into the rear view mirror and caught Gail's eyes. "You're going to make a low fat croissant?"

"Well. Maybe a less flaky one."

Vivian chimed in, "Why are they so fatty? And can I have one now?"

"Hey!" Holly scowled. "No eating in the car." The car was still new, not even being driven through a winter yet.

Gail and Vivian rolled their eyes at each other. "It's the butter, Monkey. Makes them all flaky and delicious."

Momentarily, Vivian joked, "Is monkey butter the stuff Lisa used on her butt on the bike ride?" It was in impish moments like that, when Vivian was a normal, silly, near-teenager, that Gail forgot about the shell her daughter was developing.

"We should send her donuts," laughed Holly. Lisa had gone on a 100km bike ride for charity with her kind of girlfriend, Kate, and ended up saddle sore and with a numb vagina. The crotch thing had made Gail laugh hysterically, since Lisa had to sit on a donut cushion for days after. Ever since, she teased Lisa by making her donuts.

"Monkey donuts?"

Gail snorted a laugh out her nose. "We can eat at the cage. Holly, that is such an apt name. Cage. Locking me in with a bat, throwing balls at me... This isn't very lesbian."

"We hit the balls with bats," rejoined Holly. "Exceptionally lesbian."

And while Gail would never, ever, not even on her dying day, admit it, she did like baseball. It was cathartic in a way shooting wasn't, and today Gail really didn't feel like shooting anything was a smart idea. She couldn't say that out loud, people would always take it the wrong way, assuming she was scared. But really it was the noise today, she didn't want to hear the echoes. She wanted to and didn't want to shoot.

So she let Holly teach her how to bunt in the slow cages, something they didn't get to do in their league games. And she let Vivian tease her about how bad she was. When Holly flaunted her skills, Gail grabbed her waist and hugged her close, calling her a show off. It was just another day with her goofy family and, as Gail and Holly watched Vivian pound a few balls, she knew she wouldn't trade it for anything.

Happy family or not, Gail found herself wide awake at one in the morning. She wasn't aware of having a nightmare, nothing felt like that, but she was just awake. Holly, per usual, was sprawled diagonally across the bed, though this time only her feet were touching Gail's, while her arms clutched her own pillow and her face nearly off her own side of the bed.

Was it creepy to watch her wife sleep? It was something Gail had yet to tire of, certainly. She loved watching Holly do just about anything. Carefully easing around her, Gail wrapped an arm across Holly's waist and snuggled up as the big spoon. "I love you," she whispered, settling in to cuddle if not sleep. She wasn't having dreams, she was just ... awake.

By five AM, Gail gave up the pretense of sleep.

Holly didn't even twitch as Gail slipped out of bed and went to the living room to play a little Kombat Karnage. It was yet another dumb combat game, like her beloved Death Domain, where you ran around killing aliens and jumping through a horrible traps in an abandoned space station.

When Vivian had moved in with them, Gail had locked all her violent games away. They'd bonded over various, family rated video games, like Mario Kart. It wasn't until Vivian was ten that she asked if Gail had any action games. That led to slowly reintroducing the more grown up games, including the classics, and then the new ones. Of course there had been conversations with therapists about it first, but things had worked out rather well. There was no association with what had happened with Vivian's dad.

And even Gail didn't generally associate video games with the reality of what happened in her day to day life. It was just another game, even today. The mindless, and fake, carnage of dead tentacled creatures was mind numbing.

"You're part vampire," announced Vivian, coming downstairs in her pajamas.

"Hence the skin." Gail smiled and finished the level. "One on one, or team play?"

Vivian grunted and flopped onto the couch. "It's too early, Mom." So Gail played in silence for a while longer. "Was it a bad case?"

Frowning, Gail contemplated lying. "I'm benched for the rest of the week. There was a shooting, civilian died. They need to find out who did it."

Her daughter was quiet for a moment. "Did you?"

"No." Gail scowled as she took hits from the alien and concentrated to make it to the next save point. There, she turned off the game and tossed the controller down. "John got hit in the head. He's in the hospital, but he'll be fine."

Vivian didn't look over. She was staring up at the ceiling. "Was it scary?"

Gail hesitated. "Yes and no. I told you about Snakeface, right?"

"A million years ago."

"I was scared then, mostly of screwing up." She stretched out and settled in her chair comfortably. "You're always a little scared when you do that, when you have to pull your gun out. It's not like TV."

On TV, the cops always did it right, or if they didn't then they went to one psych appointment and were fine. If they got shot, it was superficial and they were fine next week. The idea of years of treatment for the pain of killing someone, or nearly being killed, was foreign. There was no lasting impact.

Holly thought Gail hated cop shows because they were unrealistic. In truth it was the fakery. The shallowness of their commitment to the job, the superficiality of it all, was hard to stomach. Being a police officer wasn't just a job for Gail. She'd been groomed for it from birth, she'd been destined for it her entire life. To be a police officer was an inevitability. At the same time, she had found so much of herself in the job that it was ingrained in her.

The job was she and she was the job.

She looked over at her daughter, thoughtfully. "I'm sorry if it bothers you, Viv."

Hazel-brown eyes met hers. "Mom, you being a cop doesn't bother me."

Gail frowned. "When they told us about you, I worried about that a lot."

"It's not the same thing," muttered Vivian. "I don't know why. But guns don't bother me."

"You have a permit," drawled Gail. "I really hope you like them."

The girl giggled a little. "Thanks for that." The child's permit had been a birthday present. Before twelve, she'd been provisionally allowed on the range only with Gail or a qualified adult like Oliver or Elaine.

When Gail had asked what she wanted for her birthday, Vivian had promptly said the license, which was rather startling. Yes, she'd gone to the range a few times before, but the request to have her own license meant she didn't have to go with Gail anymore. Holly had flipped. That Holly tolerated Gail's guns was one thing; they were a known entity and a part of Gail's life long before Holly had shown up. She didn't like them, but she understood them and the necessity. But to accept a child, their child, as someone who wanted to use a weapon did not go over well.

So Gail pulled out the age old Peck requirements for a gun license, starting with understanding exactly how dangerous they were and moving through responsible use. Should Viv ever, even while cleaning, point a gun at anyone, she lost all privileges. There was to be no bragging to her friends, no showing off, no goofing off. The gun was serious business. Gail did, quietly, eliminate the score requirements of gun usage for Pecks.

The stairs creaked and they both looked up at Holly, curiously making her way downstairs in running clothes. "You guys want to go for a run?"

"Not once, not ever," grunted Gail, but she got up and went to change anyway.

Once Vivian was off to summer school (her choice, she wanted to jump a grade in school) and Holly was off to work, Gail contemplated going back to sleep. She rarely got enough sleep, though most of that was due to chronic insomnia and her brain never turning off.

Which was why she didn't want to go to sleep just then, actually. Gail went into the office and pulled out her laptop. The case notes were still fully available to her, as she'd backed them up locally before the shooting. She may not be allowed to log into the system until Monday, but she could go over the notes to try and figure out who did shoot Justin Kino.

A drug runner, they'd tumbled on to him thanks to Jordan, Gail's snitch. The young woman had become quite useful as a CI, though Gail knew that eventually Jordan would take the offer to get clean and leave Toronto, or worse, she'd fall back into her old ways and end up dead. Those were the lives they chose. These were their paths.

Pushing that out of her mind for the now, Gail re-read the brief. Kino ran drugs, under the radar of the big guys for the most part, aiming at the supposedly smarter targets. White collar workers who needed a little buzz to take the edge off their high stress lives. Yuppies who were in debt to their eyeballs and needed uppers to get through their day. Kids who needed stimulants to keep up their grades and reputations. Idiots, basically, who felt that the only way to feel self worth was via those meaningless achievements.

Said the Peck.

Okay, fine, she could understand the drive, just not the drugs. The one time she'd tried the hard stuff, she'd instantly regretted it. And now after everything she'd been through, the idea of disconnecting yourself from reality was terrifying. There had been one, brief, moment when she succumbed to feeling of drug dissociation, and really all she'd wanted there was to not have to think and be left alone. Instead she'd had Andy being an idiot and then Holly ... Well. Maybe that had worked out for the best.

It was a great niche to aim at, though, the middle class over achievers were a perfect target. Most of the drug gangs in the area, according to Steve, didn't really aim like that. That meant Kino was unlikely to have pissed off other dealers. File that under possible but put it at the end of the list. But if he didn't get shot by a dealer, who did he get killed by?

What she needed to know was more about the bullet and the gun.

Gail grimaced and leaned back. What she _really_ needed was to be back on the case. Even if she asked, Holly wouldn't slip her the notes for the autopsy. Odds were that the weirdo from Montréal would do the autopsy, or one of the minions like Rodney, since Holly was married to Gail. That rarely came up as an issue.

Before Gail could give up, her phone rang and showed the cheer face of Inspector David Butler. "Please give me good news, boss," she said by way of greeting.

"Get your ass back to work on Monday."

She exhaled loudly. She was cleared. "I really hate SIU you know."

Her boss laughed. "You'd make a great addition to their ranks, when you retire."

"Never gonna happen," snorted Gail. "Pompous pricks."

"I thought you liked Mills?"

Gail hesitated. That was different. She changed the subject, "You trying to get rid of me?"

And Butler grunted. "And watch my case closure percentage drop? Hell no, Peck. You're the best investment I ever made."

Thankfully no one could see her blush. "Is John cleared too?"

"He is. And he's probably bored."

That was a hint to go see him. Check. "Seeing as I can't solve the riddle of who shot Kino without an autopsy, I may as well go pick his battered brain."

Butler paused for a moment. "You know, he does have a concussion, so don't make him think too hard."

Gail rolled her eyes. She did understand the sentiment. "He's my partner, David," she remarked.

"Just so you remember it," the Inspector agreed. "I'll make sure you get a copy of the autopsy, Peck, but try and take a day off. Your wife threatened me after last time."

They hung up and Gail called the hospital to check on John. Once assured that she'd be allowed, Gail headed over and was surprised to see an older couple in the room with her partner. The woman had John's eyes, the sharp look that read a person and told you they knew your secrets. Her smile was John's smile as well, the thin line that hid a wry sense of humor. The man looked nothing like John. Of course. His mother and her second husband.

"Oh," she said lamely. "Uh, I can come back." Gail took a half step back.

Her partner's weary face brightened. "No, no. Gail, come here. Mom, Ivan, this is my partner, Gail Peck. Gail, meet my parents, An-Mei and Ivan."

Awkwardly, Gail tried to offer a smile as she extended a hand. "Mrs. Simmons." She'd learned the secret of John's last name a couple years back. That he'd been adopted by his stepfather at seventeen and the man never knew John had run with a gang. "Mr. Simmons."

"Please, call me An-Mei," smiled the mother. It was the same look as John at his most honest. "John's told me quite a bit about you."

Gail paused. "Yeah, that's not making feel comfortable," she decided. "It's nice to meet you." She shook each parent's hand in turn.

Her partner was amused. "So we're cleared?"

"Kinda hard to accuse us of shooting a guy when neither of us got a round off at him," Gail told him, dryly. "I'm back Monday. Butler fears the wrath of Khan."

John smiled. "And how is Holly?"

"Fine. Glad it was you and not me." Pausing, Gail looked at the parents. "Uh..."

"John told us about your wife and daughter," noted An-Mei with a smirk. "You've set an interesting bar. Successful police detective, married, parent..."

"Mom," John groaned.

Oh good. That kind of parental nagging. "It's a struggle," Gail said carefully. "The whole balance thing."

"Isn't it always?" An-Mei eyed her son. "He thinks I actually care _how_ he's happy, as long as he actually _is_ happy."

Grinning, Gail understood that. "I feel that way about my kid. It's weird, but all the parent nagging makes sense on this side."

That led to Gail showing An-Mei photos of herself, Holly, and Vivian. There was even a few of Vivian at the firing range, sporting her new license. They chatted about that, how yes, Gail was scared to have a kid who wanted a gun. But she was reasonable about it. After all, Gail had one at her age. That led to Ivan being interested in how Gail was an n-th generation police officer, and what that was like. The pressure had to be difficult, they remarked.

Through their conversations, John chimed in here and there, mostly giving Gail a little grief. Finally his parents said they had to go, but assured their son they'd be back tomorrow.

"Wow, they talk a lot," muttered Gail, taking Ivan's seat.

"Yeah, I usually just shut up and let 'em ramble." He looked amused and tired.

Gail propped her feet up on the bed. "So. How are you?"

Her partner sighed. That meant not great. "I've had a headache off and on all day. They gave me a shot, so I have to stick around tomorrow too."

Pretty much every cop had suffered through one serious injury or another. And Gail knew quite a few who'd suffered traumatic head injuries, including Oliver. Twice. Three if you counted the fact that he was deaf in one ear, after being a stupid hero at the bank robbery he'd tumbled on years ago. But John was her first and, thus far, only partner as a detective. It was possible this would end his career if it was bad.

"I don't want to ask," she grumbled.

John smiled tiredly. "Yeah, I don't either."

One of the many reasons she like the man, his ability to understand her without any stupid romantic shit getting involved was a big one. Never once had there been a drop of sexual tension from either side. John was never into her, and she never looked at anyone since Holly, which surprised her a little. Not that she'd think about cheating ever again, but that no one really caught her eye as attractive. She'd noticed other people while dating men before, though was never tempted. Just since Holly, it stopped. Her heart knew, even when the brain was being a tool, that she was in love and that was it.

And thankfully, Holly would understand if Gail said that she adored John. Her wonderful, weird, smart, nerdy wife would know that Gail just loved the man like a brother, in her proprietary way. Because that was the reality. Gail did love John like family. He'd become a friend, confidant, and someone she could trust. Like Oliver, she knew he'd be there for her as a cop and a shoulder. He'd been a little hurt she'd not leaned on him back when Holly had been exposed to Luongo River Fever, but that had just been overwhelming, and Gail's mother had stepped up to be a mom when Gail needed one.

"Distract me, Peck. I don't want a pussycat." John had said that more than once to her. He wanted a Peck, not a pussycat.

"What'd you see?"

John closed his eyes. "I saw Kino step out of the back room. I saw your gun go up. Then I heard the gunshots. I _smelled_ the outside. And then ... I was turning and something hit me hard. Do you know what it was?"

"No," sighed Gail. "I heard the thud, but I didn't turn around until after the shot."

"Awesome. Two seasoned cops and we have _no_ clue who killed our guy."

"I got off two rounds, but the fucker was fast," she grumbled.

"He went out the door?" When Gail nodded, John frowned more. "He's damn fast."

Gail frowned and sat up, following the unspoken train of thought. "Where'd you get hit?"

"On the head." When Gail glared, John touched the right side of his head, above and behind his ear.

Bingo. "Damn it! The perp who hit you didn't shoot Kino. Couldn't have. The shot came from the door, but that was on your left!"

"What? Are you sure?" John sat up, wobbled, and lay back, grimacing,

She grabbed the notepad on the nightstand and doodled the room again, showing John the layout. "Dead certain. Two people one hit you, one shot Kino, both gone by the time I turned."

Looking at her curiously, John asked, "Did you freeze?"

That… "I hesitated. I didn't turn until you hit the floor." She could tell him only because she had to tell him. John had to know.

He looked at the paper and tapped a finger. "That shot would have been crazy close to you." When he looked up, Gail nodded. "I didn't shoot."

"You turned first, though." He must have turned. Why else would they hit him? He _said_ he turned.

But John shook his head slowly. "No. No, I remember hearing the bullets and thinking how scared I was and then... I looked at you. I turned to _you_ to see if they hit you, saw you moving… You were dropping to one knee? And then it went black." He had turned towards her. Away from the danger, to check on her. She'd turned towards danger.

Gail groaned and slouched in her seat, pissed she couldn't remember anything useful. "We're shitty cops."

"We're human beings, Gail."

"No. We're not." There was a weird, tense, silence after she spoke. Gail slowly looked up at John again, not surprised to see the disturbed expression on his face. "We go out and people shoot at us, John. They hate us, they spit on us, they lie to us. And all we're trying to do is make the city safer. Get drugs off the streets, stop the, from hurting each other, killing each other. And, yeah, okay, we like the power trip that comes with the job, but damn it, we want a safer place for our family and kids." Gail exhaled loudly. "We're not normal people. We'll never be normal. And we don't get to screw up, be scared, or run away."

He pressed his lips together. The silence hovered a little longer until he said, "Man, you had a real twisted childhood."

"I wasn't the one in a gang," she snapped angrily and regretted it instantly. "Shit, John, I'm sorry-"

"Jesus, Gail, stop." John struggled to sit up until Gail leaned over and pressed the button for him. "You're right. We're not normal, but we're still humans. We're allowed to get scared."

Gail turned away. "Not on the job, not when we wear the badge." She walked over to the window, contemplating how to leave the conversation and not have her partner livid.

"You really believe that?"

"I do," she sighed, pushing her hands through her hair.

Years and years and years ago, Steve had been human. Normal. She couldn't remember the name of the kid, but she remembered the story fairly well. The result of bullying ended with a suicide. Whether or not Steve could have stopped it by standing up for the kid and being his friend, Gail remembered it as the reason she realized she _was_ better than other people. She knew what was right and wrong and while, yes, she was as petty and venal as anyone else, she was different. She really was a Peck, as much as she hated being that.

Normal people let others die. Normal people ran away from being shot at and hid at home. Normal people didn't weigh the options of their actions. Normal people shot and didn't think first. Normal people … Well. She'd never be normal and that was that.

"Did you hit him?" John's voice was soft and worried.

"No blood trail, and they cleared me to go back Monday." She saw his reflection in the window. Her partner had killed a man once. She remembered that, it wasn't even that long ago. Dov and Nick and Andy had all killed people. Oliver had not. Gail had, theoretically, not. Steve had not.

It was a question that interested her, but also one she didn't want to know the answer to. What was it like? But in a weird way, it was like people who asked her what it was like to be a lesbian now. It wasn't something she could explain in simple words, it was just what it was. It changed her very core, her essence was now altered by realizing one truth.

Maybe it was like the guilt Steve carried for that kid from his school. Was that what Vivian held close about her birth family? Maybe it was the guilt she felt over and over for Jerry. That had finally become something she could stomach, something that didn't keep her up late at night often. But it was a fact, a scar on her psyche that would never vanish. Gail rubbed the nearly invisible scar on her forehead, wondering what her daughter was carrying inside that shell.

"You're brooding," John remarked. "You do that, rub your forehead when you're feeling guilty and broody."

"Shut up," she grumbled and shoved her hands in her pockets. Asshole, acting like he knew her.

She saw his reflection smile sadly. "It sucks. It hurts and you feel sick. I felt sick. Like I failed, that it was my only choice, and I know it was right. But God. I hate it."

He did know her. And she knew him. "Didn't save your head though."

John grunted. "Can't do everything, Super Peck."

"Good thing your head's thick." They shared a smirk. "I'm going to get the autopsy report tomorrow or Monday. Keep you in the loop?"

"Please. I'll be at my folks' place by Sunday."

She nodded and clapped a hand on his knee before heading out. It was hard to talk about what she was feeling and thinking with him sometimes. Especially in moments like this when he was incredibly close to the situation. Hell, he was the situation. When it had been Perik it was a lot easier since he only knew about it peripherally. To him, it was just a story that had little meaning save it had happened to a cop.

Explaining it to Holly or Vivian was even harder, since she didn't want to scare them. Which really left her few people to talk to. Two people. Her therapist and her mother. After leaving the hospital, Gail toyed with the idea of asking Elaine about it, about how it felt to have shot someone. She could ask Dov about it and probably get a better answer.

Naturally, Friday morning saw her at her therapist's, sans autopsy report. This wasn't unexpected. Holly told her the autopsy was pending in SIU's hands, but it was completed by Rodney and should be available Monday. After all, they'd cleared Gail and John. But it did give Gail a bit of extra time to ruminate over the events. So, at her therapist's office, Gail draped her arms over the back of couch and stared at the wall tiredly.

"What are you thinking about?" The man's voice was calming. He was her new therapist, good with cop and family drama. Dr. Davies had been a good choice the last couple of years, even Holly liked him. She kept her own, separate, therapist, as did Vivian, but any time they felt like group therapy was in order, they all agreed he was the right one.

Gail looked over and studied his face. "Does hypnosis work?"

He was quiet for a moment. "Didn't you call it hocus-pocus?"

"I did," she smiled. "I was thinking, can it really help you remember something you're repressing?"

"Are we talking about you?"

"Kind of." Gail dropped her head back and looked up. "I was thinking about Viv a little. I mean, God, I'd love to remember more about that idiot who shot at me, or have some cool hypno-juju that helps me realize I totally saw the guy who clocked John, but I saw his reflection in a window, and magic woo woo CSI crap."

They shared a smirk. "If it worked that way, I'd charge higher rates."

"Don't get greedy, buddy. You're paid by insurance."

"Super science aside, you're thinking of your daughter?"

Gail nodded. "She used to be a little more open. I worry about it sometimes. A lot of times."

"More than you're worried about yourself? Or your partner?"

She eyed her therapist. "Yes. Always. I didn't kill anyone. I did my job and I did it right. Viv... You know, I totally get why my mom did stupid things, right? Because I'd do anything for her, just to make her happy and safe."

Dr. Davies nodded. " Is there anything in particular that brought it on?"

Gail gnawed her lip for a moment. "Yeah but it's convoluted." Her therapist shot her a look. "This kid in Steve's school killed himself when he was 17. It was all screwed up, but he was a massive bully and it turned on him, and everyone gave him hell. Wrote nasty shit on his locker, that kind of thing. I was thinking about that, the guilt from it, cause I _know_ Steve knows he could have done something."

When she paused for a long time, Dr. Davies asked, "Do you think you could have done anything?"

"I was nine, so ... No." She waved a hand in the air. "I was thinking how that guy lived with pain for years. Agony. And he kept it to himself until it was too much. And then I think about Viv, what she's keeping to herself. And I worry."

"You think she'll kill herself?"

Gail shook her head. Then nodded. Then shook it again. "I don't know," she grumbled. "I'm way too vain, Holly's too worried about me, Steve's too egotistical, but ... If any of us would, it'd be her. So yeah, I worry. Isn't that my job as a mom? Fear and guilt all the time?"

The doctor nodded. "They are two of the strongest feelings. But there's also pride."

And Gail broke into a smile. "Can you believe that kid got a top score on the range?" Vivian hadn't just beaten her age group, she'd beaten a couple adults. "I guess… I was thinking about how I wish I could remember more, and then I got to thinking about what does she actually remember. She still says she just remembers seeing her dad dead on the floor."

"You think she saw more?"

Gail nodded a little. "I do. I'm … Look I'm a cop, I'm supposed to know how to read people. I hate 'em but I know when people have a thing." She waved one hand by the side of her own head. "Something in there they don't really remember, or don't want to remember, or whatever. And sometimes I see that in her face. Like there's a more she's shoving away."

Dr. Davies tapped a finger on the arm of his chair, thinking. "Is that bad?"

"It'll come out weird. Later. It usually does." She knew that from personal experience. "I know, I should be worrying more about my own head than my kid's. I'm not deflecting, it's just … I do worry about her. All the time."

"So long as you're not neglecting your own mental health again, Gail, I think it's fine."

Again. There had been some stupid times where Gail got caught up in aspects of Peck-dom she didn't even know she was susceptible to. Like over-achievers syndrome. "I think I'm not," she said carefully. "Holly hasn't told me to take a break, and I _did_ take a day off."

"An enforced day off."

Gail felt chagrined and looked up at the ceiling again. "Okay, okay, I should take some real time off. After this case. Viv's almost done with summer session. We can go up to the cabin."

Her doctor cleared his throat. "You should try something else. Something at home."

"Come on, I have zero capacity for boredom."

"And yet you live in a city with a great number of wonderful ways to entertain you. Amusement parks, open air markets, parades, a new cooking class…"

Gail scowled. "You want those muffins again." The man smiled. "Fine. Okay, Peck needs a break. I just never know what to _do_."

"Then my prescription is to take the _night_ off. For the rest of July. Do something with your family, or not. But no work." Gail opened her mouth to argue, "Unless the case demands it. And I want you to be realistic about that one, Gail."

Damn. "Fine," she grumbled. "Can I go now?"

"Unless you want to talk about your fears of killing someone or your father's continuing lack of communication?"

Ouch, flinched Gail. "Not really."

But she got off easy with just a request to talk about it next time. At home, she rustled up one of the fancier meals she'd been itching to make. Before everyone had come home the day before, she'd tossed a pork loin into some marinade. Now it was ready to cook. She scraped off the marinade and dried off the loin before tossing it into the oven. Setting a timer, she went upstairs and fell onto the bed to process the therapy session.

Some weeks were harder than others. Some months her sessions were barely a check in to see how she was doing. Then this month she went twice. Every session was a little rough. But she'd gone from twice a week to weekly to twice a month and now once a month. So every month someone picked her brain and her feelings and left her wondering what was normal and what was weird and what was Peck, and would she ever become more than she was.

There was a knock on the door. "You okay, Mom?"

"Yeah, just thinking." She hesitated and asked, "How was school?"

"Fine. Liv and Matt and I are all gonna be eighth graders."

Gail blinked. "Okay, I'm old. You're twelve."

"Thirteen in February." There was a thumping sound, rhythmic. Viv was probably kicking the wall, thinking. "What's in the oven?"

"Pork loin. Green beans and carrots. I'll toss a pie in."

Vivian made a noise indicating she heard and the sound of her footsteps retreated. A few minutes later, Gail's watch beeped and she went downstairs to uncover the roast. Her daughter was camped out on the couch with a book and the news on a low volume. Weird child. But she said she'd listen for the meat thermometer, so Gail went back upstairs and lay down again. Vivian was totally trustworthy with the cooking and knew what to do with the meat when it was done.

It wasn't much longer that the garage door went up. Gail just lay in the bed until she felt it dip and a warm arm draped across her waist. "Hey. Our kid thinks you're depressed."

"Kinda." Gail slid her hand into Holly's, intertwining their fingers. "What ifs sit heavy some days," she noted. Holly sighed and squeezed the hand in hers. They didn't need to say anything more. Holly understood.

There was a creak at the doorway and, a moment later, Vivian joined them on the bed, sprawled on Gail's other side. "Meat's resting. I put the veggies in the steamer," she remarked.

Gail smiled and wormed an arm around her kid's shoulder, hugging her. "I'll make a sauce out of the fond."

Normally Viv squirmed when hugged, but today she let her mother hold her close for a bit. "What's the fond?"

"The crusty bits at the bottom of the pan."

Her wife made a very pleased noise. "Can I just say I love that you took those cooking classes?"

"It's all the Monkey's fault," smiled Gail.

After dinner, which Vivian helped make mashed potatoes for, they all made themselves comfortable on the couch. Holly was caught up in the sports game, having won the coin toss for show choice, but Vivian poked Gail's leg and signed a question.

 _Are the doves singing?_

Gail smiled and signed back that they were alright. Her daughter didn't seem to believe that, and asked if Gail was sure. Glancing at Holly to make sure her wife wasn't paying attention, Gail explained in more detailed terms what she was worried about. That she was wondering what would have happened if she'd shot him, if she'd made the wrong choice in not. And she was struggling with how it felt, knowing someone's death, no matter what her choice had been, was somewhat her fault. And then ... Then she was worried about John.

And Vivian seemed to understand, saying she was sorry and asking how she could help. Gail told her to just keep being Vivian, but then asked out loud, "Holly, we should do something this weekend. What can we do?"

"There's a street fair in Greektown," mused Holly. "My new assistant was going on about it."

While food was pretty normal for them, Gail tried to remember the last time she'd gone to a street fair and not been working. "Let's do that. You're good on your homework, Monkey?"

Vivian eyed her suspiciously. "You're voluntarily going to a crowded place with tons of people? Mom, are you sure Mom's okay?"

With a laugh, Holly leaned back against Gail. "She's always very weird, honey. But I like her this way."

The weekend sped by and was surprisingly fun. They ran into some old classmates of Holly's who were thrilled to see their nerdy doctor friend had married and adopted. The classmates actually ran the festival, so they got behind the scenes tours of everything, including the kitchens. Gail's cooking skills came up in conversation and while she admitted it was just a hobby to keep her out of trouble, her wife and daughter bragged that they'd had some amazing French meals. One of the restaurants insisted Gail take a Greek cookbook, their restaurant's pride and joy, and learn that too.

With stomachs full of good food, souls filled with new friendships, they were all soundly in bed by ten, feeling the exhaustion that came from a fun day in the sun. At work Monday, Gail was teased by Oliver for the sunburn on her face. Everyone knew Pecks didn't go out in the sunlight willingly. But that was the end of the happiness and the ease. Armed with her Dad mug, Gail hunkered at her desk and stared at the autopsy report. Rodney had, per usual, done a bang up job on it, but the evidence was slim. The bullet was indeed a 9mil, something Gail filed away as a 'told you so' snap back to Allen in SIU. She knew it.

Okay, so a fairly common, easy to buy, gun, fired by a fairly average, looks like anyone, guy. The evidence was sparse from the shooter. He'd left one bullet in the wall and, looking at the forensic report on trajectory, Gail was incredibly lucky. The bullet that she'd felt whiz by her had been crazy ass close. She shuddered and opened the bullet forensic's file and read up on the grooves. The bullet was in the system for two other unsolved murders. Both were drug dealers. She pulled up their records and quietly read... Huh.

Instinctively, she looked at John's desk to voice a theory and stalled. No John. Not till maybe next week. Gail turned to the side and spotted Griggs. "Hey, Griggs, you got a second?"

The big man nodded and shambled over. "Whaddya got, Peck?"

"Theory." She pulled up the report on the bullets. "Same gun for three dead dealers. All the dealers were hitting up local high end schools."

"Any one school on the list?" There was and Gail pulled up the list of her suspect pool. "Damn that gun's too popular," grumbled Griggs. "Why is Noah Hendrix in your top spot?"

"He's got a record. Petty shit, but he was picked up on a drug charge when he was a senior. Served a little time for selling weed and alcohol to minors at his school."

Griggs pondered, "Misdirected revenge? Dealer with a heart of gold?"

She kind of liked Griggs. "I'm thinking protecting his market. I went to one of those kinda schools, there was _always_ shit."

Nodding, Griggs told Gail she was driving. He was, technically, the second in command to Butler, but Griggs rarely threw his weight around. Gruff, partnerless, a good training officer, and a lifer cop, he was the sort of man who you saw on cop shows. Holly liked to call him their Provenza, whatever that meant. One of these days she'd have to ask.

Borrowing Griggs, they went to the home of Noah Hendrix. His last known address was his parents' house, who said he lived in the basement. It was the usual song and dance. Noah was a good kid who had been caught in the wrong crowd. And no, they were not just going to let the police traipse through the house without a warrant. Even Sam Swarek and his devil may care interpretation of 'plain sight' could swing that one. Gail left her card and stepped outside, scratching her shoulder absently.

If she'd been with John, she wouldn't have had to say anything. He'd just know she wanted to walk around the grounds. With Griggs, she had to voice her plan, though he went along with it. There was, sadly, nothing useful or enough to let them avoid a warrant. Which meant Gail's afternoon would be hunting down a judge.

As they got into a car, Griggs grumbled, "You don't think about things normally."

"Thank you?"

"It's good. You just take a while to get used to."

Gail eyed the man. "Am I getting a new partner?" Griggs always knew things. He had been Butler's partner before that man had stepped up to run their unit.

"David's retiring in the next couple years, Peck."

"Oh." She frowned and drove down the road. "You too?"

The man laughed. "I have three ex-wives, Peck. I'm dying in that chair of mine."

She had to laugh at that. "Well. No matter who we get, I've got your back." But it did fill her with a little fear. She liked Butler. Having a boss who knew how to use her, how to let her wander like this and be free to follow her own path to solve a crime was a privilege.

Griggs gave her a curious look. "How long have you and the Doc been married now?"

"Eight years last month," sighed Gail. "It's weirder that my damn kid is about to be in 8th grade."

"Makes it easy to remember, though. Eight. That's longer than all my marriages combined."

She smirked. "Not something I'd brag about."

"She's successful too, chief medical examiner."

Gail was pretty sure Griggs was fishing for some information, but wasn't sure what. "Spit it out, Griggs," she sighed. She hated playing that game.

"You ever think about being Inspector Peck?"

Gail bit her lip. Her father was the Inspector. "Sometimes. But that's not going to happen tomorrow." She frowned and pulled into the parking garage. "I like OC."

"We need inspectors too."

Oh. "Like hell anyone'd make me the new head of OC." Because David Butler ran more than just their branch. He was in charge of Major Crimes for three divisions, though he ran it out of Fifteen, and headed up OC for them as well. It was a hell of a job.

"Not today, but you should think about it."

Agreeing to do so, Gail shoved the idea into the back of her head while filing a warrant to inspect the Hendrix home. Sure, there were good reasons to want to boot the cops from your home, but ... She also knew the judge wasn't about to approve the warrant without some fieldwork, so Gail went to bug Ollie about getting patrol to canvas the areas around the crime scene as well as the Hendrix home. Her idea was to up the pressure and hopefully he'd ditch the gun.

Meanwhile she got a warrant to run credit and debit cards, though not search the house, and had to start small. Not a big deal. It was a bit odd running it alone, though. You got used to things, like a partner sharing the load when you were frustrated, or a wife who snored and took up half the bed. The difference was one day she'd have a new partner, where as she knew she'd never have another wife if anything happened to Holly.

Gail stared at the suspects, still sure she was right about Hendrix. He felt right. If only she was good at reading people outside of the interrogation room, she sighed. John was good at that. She was good at it when they sat in room, uncomfortable and twitching. That was when she could see their inner selves. Their shadow self. The one that couldn't lie.

Hey, if your scars were going to lay heavily on your soul forever, you may as well put them to good use.

The week slogged through like that. She didn't get enough information for a judge to sign off on a full warrant, so she had to settle for calling the family every day. By Friday, the mother was cracking to Gail's pressure since her son hadn't come home. That was an improvement. Also on Friday, she got a call from John asking if she knew how to check someone for post-concussion syndrome and, if so, would she pick him up for work on Monday before he killed his mother.

God she'd missed his humor. Promising to get a run down from Holly, Gail informed Butler that John was coming back. Her boss made her swear to keep him on light duty. That made her think of something interesting. It was a random association, remembering when she'd been on light duty after Perik and the shooting, stuck working weird shifts and hours. And she always felt like she was sneaking back into Casa Peck...

Instead of going home early, she waited for Dov, who always came in early for the night shifts on Friday. She knew Oliver and Dov would go over all the open cases, make sure everyone was on the same page, so she should take advantage of that. Once Gail explained to Butler that she wanted someone to sit on the house, because if _she_ was Hendrix, she'd be sneaking in at night. Especially if he knew the cops were looking into them, which his parents were sure to have informed him.

So Butler okay'd her talking to Dov and Ollie about a constant watch. Just something to amp up the pressure on the suspect. They had some rookies who would be good for that, something relatively safe. Dov teased her that she liked having a job where she could go home at regular hours, to which she suggested he try marriage. It was an old joke for them now. They knew Dov and Chloe were unlikely to marry, but they were just as committed as Holly and Gail in their own way.

That, of course, made her think about Nick and how he was never going to get married either. He had always claimed he would, one day, even after their disaster. To have had it work out that Gail was happily married with a child and Nick was just living with Andy (finally, he gave up and moved in with her) was funny on many levels. At least everyone at Fifteen seemed to be relatively happy.

True, Gerald had been dumped when he tried to propose to his girlfriend, Salvador was shot and nearly died a few years ago, Andrews had finally retired, and John hadn't had much by the way of a steady anything since Rachel. But they were all somewhat happen to a degree. Mostly Gail knew she was happy.

"Holly, are you happy?" It was the question she asked in the late summer gloam, as the last tendrils of the sunset faded from the sky and the city fireflies danced in their backyard. Gail sat on the swinging bench, watching Holly clean up from their barbecued dinner, cooked by Vivian with Gail as sous chef.

"You know, on TV people ask that as a prelude to a divorce," teased Holly. She gave the table a final wipe. "Yes. I'm happy, honey."

Gail nodded, her eyes drifting to Holly's ass as she bent down to pick up a napkin. "Good. Because I'm happy."

Glancing over, Holly caught Gail in her ogling, and smirked. "Not as depressed?"

"Not while watching your ass, no," smiled Gail, patting the swing seat beside her. Holly nodded but took the refuse inside first, coming back with beers. "What's the Monkey doing?"

"She's on her phone talking to Liv." Holly passed a beer over and sat next to Gail, snuggling into the nest of her arm and side.

In many ways, Liv was more grown than Vivian. She was interested in boys and sex in a more meaningful way than Vivian's clinical view. Not that Gail had escaped the sex talk for older girls. Vivian had been more embarrassed than Gail about it, not really wanting to know semantics or details. But the last thing Gail wanted was her kid being pregnant without wanting it. Besides, Holly was fairly useless when it came to that talk.

Resting her cheek against Holly's head, Gail smiled. Her goofy, nerdy, wife was wildly imperfect, just like Gail was. She didn't handle the sex talk with the kid well, she hated guns and was terrible at driving in winter, and she was really bad about remembering to close the windows when she turned on the air con, which was hilarious because she was a committed environmentalist. Holly couldn't sing to save her life but insisted on doing it on drives up to the cabin while blasting the classic lesbian playlist from her iPhone.

Holly was awkward and self-conscious, never having grown quite comfortable in her own skin when she phased out of the gangly youth stage. She had an adorable side smile that still managed to get Gail out to the batting cages. She geeked out with their daughter, sharing a love for science fiction and conventions that Gail still thought was ridiculous.

This was not the life she saw for herself as a child. Being at peace with who she was, that was a blessing Gail never thought she'd be graced with. Being happy with who she was and who she was with, that too was to be treasured and cherished.

"What's up in that bleached blonde head?"

"Thinking about you." Gail gently kissed Holly's head. "Us."

"Happy with us?"

"Very," sighed Gail. "I want to tell you something you won't like. About the shooting last week." Holly said nothing but pressed herself closer. "The guy I'm looking for got off three shots. Two hit the dealer we'd been after." She could feel the tension in Holly's shoulders. "One hit the wall. And I was looking at the forensic report and matching it up to the thing I drew for SIU. It was _real_ fucking close, Holly."

Holly's back tightened and she reached up to take hold of Gail's hand that hung over her shoulder. "I don't like it, you're right," she groused.

"It gets a lot of weird thoughts going on in my head, Holly," she sighed. "Like worrying about Viv and John and what coulda beens..."

The soft ah from her wife was a relief. Her head was off and on a jumble of confusing, disjointed thoughts. Any time she stopped working, stopped shoving in noise to drown those thoughts, Gail worried. "Honey," sighed Holly, kissing their joined hands and sitting up straight. "I wish I could just make it better."

"You do by being here."

Holly smiled the soft, almost sad smile at her. "You didn't get shot, you didn't get hurt. John is going to be fine."

"Oh, yeah, I need you to give me a run down on post concussion syndrome," sighed Gail. "John's coming back Monday and wants me to keep an eye on him."

Nodding, Holly turned and snugged herself back up against Gail's side. "Sure. Sunday. Today I want my wife, the bitchy one, and tomorrow I want that grumpy face on the softball field."

Gail groaned. "Crap. That's this weekend?"

"You knew I liked sports before we starting dating," smiled Holly.

Putting her beer on the railing, Gail ran her hand across Holly's hip. "I know, but I was blinded by sex," she muttered, letting her breath curl around Holly's ear. Her wife shivered and let go of her hand, putting her own beer down.

"You're trouble, Peck," Holly said quietly and turned to face Gail again, smirking. "You're in trouble, too." Leaning forward, Holly braced her arms on either side of Gail, trapping her.

She knew she wasn't supposed to avoid her issues with sex, but Holly was very firm about that too and since she was not chastising Gail at the moment, this wasn't that. Sometimes it was hard to tell from inside her head. Holly usually had a better vantage point. Right now, Holly's vantage point was the one that let her kiss the side of Gail's neck.

The swing was not the best place to make out, unless you minded being limited to less room than the back of a car. And it was terrible if you minded the regular occurrence of a kid who caught you feeling up your wife. "Moms, I'm going to bed. Can you guys _please_ take it to your room?"

Gail sighed and let her head drop back onto the back of the swing. With one more lingering kiss to the side of Gail's neck, Holly got up. "Night, honey. Charge your phone."

"She's so in charge of us," groaned Gail and she sat up.

"It's good advice, though," Holly smiled and picked up the beers. "I'll put these away." There was a sway to her walk that lit a fire in Gail's body. Holy crap was Holly beautiful. Gail lingered a moment, letting the tingling settle. More than making out, just watching Holly turned her on.

Much to Gail's annoyance, all that wonderful feeling did not help her sleep through the night. Before sunrise she jerked awake, struggling out of a weird darkness where she'd felt her brain burning from the stab, the needle in her neck. Holly's hand was on her shoulder, shaking her into awareness, her warm voice urging Gail to open her eyes.

With a groan, Gail pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes. "I'm awake, I'm awake."

The hand squeezed her shoulder. "I'm sorry, honey," sighed her wife.

"Happens." With a soft sigh, Holly let go and Gail felt the familiar weight of her wife lean across her and there was a click. The lights. Holly had turned on the lights. Pulling one hand off, Gail smiled wanly. "Sorry."

Holly put a finger over Gail's lips. "Stop. Write your dream down. No apologizing."

No arguing. Gail nodded and pick up her iPad, tapping in her dream and then turning the light back off. "It's only four," she muttered to Holly, rolling over and curling up along side her.

"You didn't wake me up," noted Holly, wrapping her arms around Gail and holding her close. "I had to pee."

"How romantic."

"Shut up and go back to sleep." Holly ran fingers through Gail's hair, lingering on the back of her neck in a way that soothed Gail's nerves. So did listening to Holly's steady, solid, heart beat, and the even breathing. And then Gail's eyes drooped and she felt her body get heavier. And she for maybe the first time in years after a nightmare, she fell back asleep easily.

Saturday breezed by, even with the stupid softball game, and as they started a good-natured squabble over dinner, Gail's phone rang. Dispatch. "Peck." Both her wife and child stopped. They knew that tone.

The rookies had spotted their guy, Hendrix, dumping something in a neighbor's trash bin. They couldn't believe he was that stupid. That put it in plain sight and they had found a gun. "I got forensics on the way, don't worry, Peck," promised Dispatch. "Dumb and dumber are keeping watch on the garbage and I won't let them mess up chain of evidence."

"You're gonna make my night if you tell me they have eyes on Hendrix."

There was a pause. A brief pause. Gail could hear Dispatch grinning. "1519 just pulled him over for a busted tail light. Guess who doesn't have a license?"

Gail pumped a fist. "Have them haul that son of a bitch in, I'm on my way to the station." She hung up and paused, looking at her waiting family. "We got the gun. We got the guy. I gotta break him."

Rolling her eyes, Holly shooed Gail upstairs. "Go. Go. Viv, we can sort out dinner, right?"

"I'll make burgers," declared Vivian.

Letting them hash it out, Gail rushed through a shower and kitted herself out in record time. She was grateful that she didn't have to shave for something like this, not like her brother would, and took the time to fix her hair and skipped the makeup (except to cover the hickey from Holly, awesome). Just the basics for this guy. Taking the moment to kiss Holly before she was out the door, Gail knew she was practically vibrating with excitement.

All the long, drawn out, waiting for a perp to show up never played to her strengths. She could monitor a stakeout as well as the next guy, but she hated it so much. When her gut knew she was right, she wanted to call it and be done. At the same time, the idea of breaking someone down in interrogation thrilled her. Who knew she'd be so great at it? For years, Gail thought the grunt of police-work would be her calling. Then, after Perik, she developed a knack.

You had to take what the universe crapped on you and let it make you better.

And those days that the universe deigned to remember it owed you a few favors here and there, well those you grabbed and savored.

She opened the door to hear Hendrix's lawyer tell him they had nothing, and not to say anything. But then Gail sat down and the boy's eyes went wide.

"You!"

Gail smiled ear to ear. "Wanna try that again, Mr. Lawyer?"

The lawyer flustered and blustered, but the young avenger folded like Steve on poker night. His story was stupid and simple. It was a mix between vengeance for getting kids in _his_ neighborhood on drugs, but also shitty dealers poaching his turf. It was almost hilarious if it wasn't so stupid.

As she wrapped up the confession, Dov opened the door and gestured for her to come out. "The judge just faxed in a warrant for the guy," smirked the king of the dorks.

"Nice timing," she snorted. "Signed confession in the bag. I'm even going to be home before dawn."

"Hey, do they make you come in the next day after you rock a case like this?"

Gail grinned but it felt strained. "Butler doesn't." The new guy, whomever it was, may not be as generous. He may not be as flexible as David was about handling a kid and the complexities of a wife who had an equally busy job. He may not be okay with a female detective who had a wife.

For the first time, Gail found herself wondering if the choices she'd taken to make herself happy were going to backfire. She looked into interrogation, feeling a flush of pride for the case closure on her own. This was something she didn't want to give up. Gail loved her job. She loved the work, the thrill of the chase, that awesome rush of success when you got ahead of the losers and won. The feeling of delight from that powerful oomph... Yeah, power was addictive.

She pushed her hair back, away from her eyes, and took the warrant, slapping Dov in the chest. "Those rookies didn't suck."

"Crap, I better not tell them you said that. I won't get anything good outta them for months." He grinned and bumped his fist against her shoulder. "Next weekend I'm off. We should do something with our womenfolk."

Narrowing her eyes, Gail asked, "Are you trying to take advantage of my good mood to get me to willingly hang with Princess Price?"

Dov deadpanned his reply. "Yes. Is it working?"

She smirked. "Yes. Yes it is. Saturday? I'll fire up the grill."

"I've got homebrew."

"Shit, Epstein, start with _that_ next time," she laughed and went in to finish up the interrogation and confession.

It was late, but not terribly so when she rolled home. Vivian was still up, trying to teach Holly the new team combat game. Having watched her daughter school her mother on the appropriate way to win at Mario Kart Super Nova, Gail found it hilarious to watch her instruct Holly on the best way to destroy the aliens on the space station. Mostly because Holly was incredibly bad at video games, but also because her wife was trying as hard as Gail did at sports.

"Holly, press the button with your left index finger right before you shoot," she suggested, heading up to put her gun away.

By the time she came back down, Holly was holding her own ... barely. And it was clear Vivian was going easy on her. Gail squeezed in behind Holly, reaching around her to cover her hands on the controller. "How is this helping?" asked Holly as Gail kissed her shoulder.

"Didn't your dad teach you to dance by you putting your feet on his?" Gail smiled and started to press the buttons and nudge the joystick toggles, her fingers over her wife's.

"Hey, that's cheating," yelped Vivian.

But the married duo managed to eek out a win, laughing far too much about the whole thing. Gail proved she was able to play and sneak kisses at the same time, which she argued meant she was by far the most superior gamer of the house. With a grin, Holly turned her head and her warm fingers found Gail's cheek, drawing her closer for a kiss. Mock disgusted, Vivian tossed her controller into the basket and informed her parents she was going to bed.

"I think you scared her off," smiled Gail.

"I think she's only pretending to find it gross." Holly dangled the controller from a finger. "What do I do with this now?"

Gail rolled her eyes and took the controller, turning off the game and tossing it into the basket. "All done." She rubbed her hands on Holly's thighs.

"How can you make _that_ basket and none on the court?"

Pressing her face to the crook of Holly's neck, Gail made a hum noise. "Who was it that fell off the horse?" She eased her hands up to Holly's waist and pulled her as close as possible. "Don't start this one, Stewart."

And Holly sighed, her voice light and forced. "Start what?" Gail grinned and kissed behind her wife's ear, one hand starting to work under Holly's shirt. "You got your guy," exhaled Holly, her head tilting back to give Gail more access.

"What gave it away?" Her fingers encountered the soft, smooth skin of Holly's abs and Gail grinned as Holly inhaled.

"You're incredibly snugly and a little horny when you catch bad guys," laughed Holly. She reached back and ran her fingers through Gail's hair, holding her head close. "Did you break him?"

"Soon as I walked in," Gail growled and nipped at Holly's neck. "Had his confession before we got the search warrant."

The fingers in her hair paused. "Isn't that out of order?" Holly sounded less distracted by Gail's wandering hand and more confused.

"Well. Can't be helped. I'm awesome." Gail drew a circle around Holly's belly button. That got Holly's attention back on track.

"Humble too," laughed Holly softly. "And very keyed up. Honey it's late."

It was. It was late enough to be practically early. "Take a half-day," she suggested and moved her hands higher. Vivian had a half day and wouldn't be moving before eleven. Gail had no plans to show up before noon at the precinct.

That broke her wife. "You're cheating," whinged Holly, but she wasn't really complaining.

"Taking advantage of my situation," Gail argued, her thumbs brushing some of Holly's more sensitive places. But she really wanted a bit more privacy for what she had in mind. "Bed?"

Holly exhaled and untangled herself. "You are terrible, Gail." But she didn't argue the suggestion and led Gail up to their bedroom.

And they both took a half-day.

* * *

 _This went a strange way on its own. It was meant to be different, but I like where it ended, so this is what you get. Just a case and a slice of life._

 _The guy who hit John was Hendrix's accomplice, and yes, they get him too._


	11. New Classic Comics

**Chapter 11: New Classic Comics**

 **Type: Family / Slice of Life**

 **Rating: T**

 _Finally you get a story from Vivian's perspective! Teenager Vivian finds Gail's comics (last seen in the drabble "Classic Comics"). That sounded boring, right? She also throws a party at home while her parents are out of town and, naturally, gets caught._

 _This is the autumn when Viv is 17._

* * *

Cleaning the house shouldn't be a surprise or a present. The house was in a bit of an uproar though and it was entirely her own fault. "Liv, I'm an idiot," she muttered, tying up another bag of trash.

"Throwing a party when your mother is the inspector of major crimes? Yeah, pretty stupid." Liv leaned on the vacuum. "It was fun, though."

Viv smiled. "Okay, yeah, it was. And thank god no one got into the booze."

"Jesus, you'd be dead." Liv wound up the cord. "You think they'll know?"

"Oh, I know they will." There was no way around that. Her parents were going to know that a party had happened. "The point is to make sure I clean up and the house looks good. So they don't get mad."

Liv eyed her. "You think they'd be mad if you had a party and didn't clean it up well?"

Turning on the water, Vivian ran the hot and filled the mop bucket. "That would be irresponsible. A party, with a clean and safe house, no damage to a thing, that's safe."

"Which is better than you can say for your mom's car," teased Liv.

God. "That was Uncle Steve's fault." Liv laughed at her. No one accepted that argument, no matter how many times Vivian insisted that he'd asked her to pick him up, which was why she was in the car on the icy road in the first place. His car had been short a wheel following his own skid out. His car was now hers though, with multiple repairs preceding the purchase. Only the Pecks made you buy your uncle's shitty old car. Even Leo wanted nothing to do with his step-father's crapmobile.

Perched in Gail's favorite chair, Liv sighed. "Your moms are pretty cool, you know."

"Not that again," groaned Viv and she started mopping the kitchen.

"I'm just saying they'd understand."

"Nope. Not doing it." Liv had been trying to weasel out who it was that Vivian had a crush on for weeks now, and finally had decided Viv was unwilling to talk about it because her parents would be disappointed it was a guy. That was so far from wrong, it wasn't even funny, but it also wasn't something Vivian wanted to talk about with Liv. Or Matty. She bent herself to the task of mopping, ignoring the elephants in the room. "Was it fun?"

Liv shrugged. "It was pretty tame. The karaoke was a riot."

Tame was not a compliment, realized Vivian, morosely. "Maybe I should actually _go_ to a party."

"You hate parties." That was true. "Can I ask something personal?"

Vivian glanced over. "Liv, we've known each other for ten years. You're my best friend. You can ask me anything."

But her friend pursed her lips and looked nervous. "What's the deal with sleepovers?"

Her blood went a little cold and Vivian flinched. "Oh." She stopped mopping and looked over. "Why?" She was pulling a classic Holly moment, buying for time when faced with a stressful and uncomfortable situation.

"Because I spent the night. And you're okay with that and you're okay with being here alone, which is weird by the way, and you're okay with being out all night. But the minute, the second I ask if you want to stay over, you _always_ call your Moms and they _always_ come get you. Even that time at three in the morning."

It was a long burst of words. Olivia was the sort who replied to a long text with 'K' or maybe a whole word if you were lucky. By contrast though, when she wanted to talk to you, she would just dump everything in her head at once. It was the opposite of Vivian, who liked long texts. She could think about them and phrase them carefully. Speaking out loud you had one shot at. No delete buttons. With a sigh, Vivian went back to mopping. She didn't know how to explain it and didn't really want to. "It's a thing," she started. No doubt her therapist would get on her case about not talking. Again.

"Is it... Is it why you kneed Grady in the balls?"

Vivian blinked and laughed. "No, no it's not," she smiled. God she hoped not. "It's why, uh, why I was in foster care."

Liv stared at her. "Oh. Shit, I'm sorry."

And right away, it was a thing. She sighed and started mopping again. It was totally avoidance. "And my party was boring," she mused. "Well. I tried."

"The legendary ice princess had a party," joked Liv, awkwardly.

"Seriously? Ice princess?" Vivian smiled a little and scrubbed at the floor with her mop. They called Gail that sometimes.

"It's not a compliment, Viv."

It never was. "You know I don't care that I'm not cool or popular, Liv," she pointed out.

Her friend snorted. "Good, cause you're pretty crap at it." That was funnier and they both grinned. "How'd you keep everyone out of the upstairs?"

"Locked the doors."

Liv frowned. "You don't think anyone broke in, do you?"

That was a terrible thought. Viv hadn't even been to bed yet, so she hadn't even looked at her own room, let alone her parents' or the office. The office where the guns were kept. Locked up in a safe, but still. "Crap."

They shared a look and went upstairs. Vivian tapped in the code for the office, unlocking it on the second try. "I thought you knew the codes?"

"Mom changes them once in a while. I have to re-memorize it all the time." It was a good security move for someone related to cops, she had to admit. As Vivian opened the door, she reached down and found the paper she'd slipped in over the handle. "Looks okay so far."

Liv eyed the room. "I've never been in here."

Neither had Viv until she was deemed old enough to use a gun. She didn't get the code to the gun safe until this last year, and even so wasn't supposed to use it without permission. Not going in at all had been her own thing, though. From the start, Gail moved anything that might upset her into the office. And since her moms sometimes worked on some complicated and dark cases, they tried to keep all that away from Viv. Let her grow up as innocently as possible.

"You're not allowed in your parents' office still?"

"Nope. How come they trust you more?"

Checking the room, Vivian absently pulled open a couple drawers on the smallest table, the one she was allowed to use as a desk, and checked that nothing was messed with. "I'm the responsible one," smiled Viv, rattling the drawers on Gail's desk.

Liv snorted and sat on the couch. "Who threw a party."

"Responsibly, unlike you." Liv's party had ended with broken windows and a swing set on fire. She checked Holly's desk, also left alone, and opened the closet. It wasn't the first time she'd looked in the closet, but she still wasn't quite sure what was kept in there. Gail kept her uniforms in her closet in the master bedroom even if she rarely wore them anymore. Holly's lab coats were at work, rarely home unless something odd happened, they even had the laundry done there.

Her friend scoffed at her claims. "Aren't you worried you'll find something you don't want to see?"

Vivian paused. "Like a dildo? Those would be in the bedroom anyway."

It was fun to watch her best friend stammer. "Your moms have ... Have ..."

"Dildo," repeated Viv. "Two syllables, generally used as a-"

"Oh my god shut up! I know what it is! How do you know they have one?"

Laughing, Viv shook her head. "I don't. I'm sure they do, though." She had never once snooped in her parents' bedroom. There was a big difference between knowing your parents had sex and having physical evidence of it. Hearing it was enough. She knew they had a vibrator, but that was Gail's fault for telling her the flashlight was in the wrong drawer during a power outage.

Liv shuddered. "I do not want to think about any parents having sex."

"It's sort of sweet," mused Vivian. "I mean, they've been married 13 years and they're still in a honeymoon stage." The last anniversary had been very quiet. Gail had cooked a fancy dinner at home, with Vivian helping, and then they'd gone that weekend to the ballet. Vivian had offered to go somewhere else, or that they could have a hotel, but Holly insisted she come. It had been a great night, and the whole time her moms held hands and occasionally gave each other looks that were somewhere between awe and delight.

"This from the girl who's never dated anyone."

By contrast, Liv burned through many boyfriends and had slept with two. "You want Gail to give you another talk about safe sex?"

Liv laughed. "No, no thanks." She stretched. "So no break ins?"

"Nope, looks good." The closet had some odd boxes that Vivian couldn't place.

"Whose are those comic book boxes?"

The what now? Vivian eyed her friend. "Comic books?" She looked back at the boxes.

"The long white ones. They're the same as Uncle Dov has for all his X-Men comics."

Yuck. Comics were, generally, boring. "Why can't people just read books?"

"Says someone who thinks news radio is light listening."

"Bite me." Viv rolled her eyes and closed the closet door. "Come on, let's take the trash out." She shoved Liv out of the room and closed the door again, not locking it though since she was home. She'd have to unlock her parents' room as well, but she could do that later.

They'd just gotten the trash cleared and in the bins when Liv's father showed up. "You didn't burn the place down," he laughed, pulling into the driveway.

"Really? Me?" Viv smiled and accepted the one armed hug from her virtual uncle.

"Mostly Olivia," he admitted. "Go get your stuff, sweetheart. Your grandmother's coming over for dinner."

Liv bounced inside. "Cool. Viv, wanna come over?"

"Nah, I was thinking I'd make Moms dinner."

"You're so weird, Tsundere Girl," sighed Liv. "My bag's in your room."

She shook her head, "I don't even know what you said." Then she caught a clue, as Liv glared at her, and tossed her keys over.

As Liv went upstairs, Frank cleared his throat. "So how was the party?" He didn't ask about the need for the key. He didn't ask if there was a party. He just asked how it was. Having most of your family friends be cops sucked.

"Went fine." She shoved her hands in her pockets and looked around. "Looks okay, right?"

Frank gave the downstairs a critical look. "It does. You should ask Steve if Gail ever did something like this."

Vivian grinned. "I know Holly did. Lily told me all about it."

Her virtual uncle smiled. "Don't worry about it. No one broke anything, no one got drunk, and no one called the cops. It was probably pretty dull, kiddo."

"Story of my life, Uncle Frank," sighed Vivian.

He reached over and ruffled her hair. "There are worse things than being a little boring. Though God knows how Gail ended up with a quiet kid."

"Just lucky." Sometimes Gail complained about it, but of all the things Vivian knew, the fact that her parents loved her was absolute.

Olivia tromped down the stairs and paused, looking at her dad. "Oh. Are we busted?" When Vivian nodded, her best friend rolled her eyes. "How grounded am I, Dad?"

Frank held a hand out for the bag. "You, missy, are grounded till Christmas. No parties meant not talking your best friend into it."

"She didn't!" Vivian was surprised, a little, that Frank was being so strict, though Liv _had_ thrown a party at their house last summer. Having Andy and Nick show up to break it up had been hilariously embarrassing.

The Superintendent eyed her. "Alright. Why?"

Oh good lord. Vivian blushed. "I wanted to be cool for once, but it was totally boring. Okay?"

Frank studied her face for a long moment, Vivian feeling the burn in her cheeks. "Well. Alright. But you're still grounded, Olivia. We had a deal."

Before Vivian could defend her friend, Liv nodded. "I know, sorry, Dad." And Frank seemed to be okay with that, slinging an arm around his daughter and leading her outside. "Viv, see you tomorrow?"

"Maybe. Depends on what's up with Moms."

"And if you're grounded too," teased Olivia.

After the Bests were gone, Vivian gave the house a once over again, checking for anything that would get her busted. Her phone buzzed when her parents' plane took off, giving her 90 minutes of flight, plus the time to drive, to make sure the house was in order and food was done. Not that she had to do the food, but she wanted to.

Gail had taken a cooking class her first year living with them, and from that Vivian had wanted to help and do what Gail did. Naturally she had become an adept sous chef for her mother. That meant she was more than capable to cook on her own, so Vivian headed into the fridge in the basement and pulled out the meat she'd set to marinate the morning before.

It didn't take her too long to sort out that kebabs would be the way to go. She started up the grill first and then got out rice and tossed that into the cooker. It didn't take much to make a tzikiki yogurt sauce too, and Vivian found she had everything ready but the grill with time to spare. The grill was taking forever to heat up, the coals deciding to linger and not get themselves burning really well.

In the brief moment of boredom while waiting, Vivian looked upstairs. She wanted to know what was in the comic boxes. There was no reason why Holly would hide all her comics from Vivian, seeing as they had watched all her DVDs and read all her books. Vivian snuck upstairs and opened the closet in the office, pulling out the top box.

The words 'No Losers Allowed' told Vivian the comics belonged to Gail, not Holly. That was unexpected. Gail complained about all the nerdy things that Holly and Vivian liked. Gail was loudly derisive about ToSCon and CosPlay and everything even remotely related. And apparently Gail had a secret comic book collection. Popping the lid, Vivian gave in to her curiosity and eyed the comics. Hellblazer? Watchmen? Sandman? Shade the Changing Man? What the hell were these titles?

Some were comics, some were graphic novels or collections, and the comics were all sorted and bagged. Vivian carefully pulled out the un-bagged collections for Hellblazer and flipped through it. "Whoa," she blinked and flipped back to the beginning.

The comics came downstairs with her when she went to put the kebabs on the grill. Vivian found herself lost in the world of John Constantine and his aching angst of the damned. It was deep, depressing, soul rending, and dark. She loved it. Of course this was a comic Gail liked. This wasn't a stupid Archie fluffy comic, or even a banal, wanna-be thoughtful X-men that tried to change the status quo but reverted back to nothing changing at all and rebooted their universes without serious growth.

This... This was art. This was a story. This was _good_.

Vivian burned through the first graphic novel and then went back to re-read it, studying each frame carefully until she was startled out of the world by the garage door opening. Oh shit! She bolted upstairs, putting the comics away in a rush, and then bounding back down to look like she'd just been cooking all this time.

"Oh my god, we have the best child ever," groaned Gail, hauling the luggage in.

"Wow." Holly hung up her coat and scooted around. "I'm going to appreciate that in a minute, Viv. I gotta pee!"

Gail snarled, "I called dibs!" Abandoning the luggage, the women raced up the stairs.

It was hilarious. "Never change, Moms!" Vivian grinned and made up plates. They had barely said hello before being exactly who they were, and she adored them.

They all sat around the table, her mothers having not changed out of their travel clothes. Conversation ran around the trip to New York, how the conference went, how the shows went (because Gail had insisted at least one Broadway Musical), and how the flight was. Holly had been presenting at a conference and Gail had gone along for the fun and vacation.

While Holly told Vivian all about the lectures, which were interesting, Gail plowed through the food. Gail always ate. Even if the food was sub par, Gail was often eating half again what everyone else ate. It was a mystery how Gail never got pudgy, considering how much she hated exercise. But she did stay thin, and she stole a hunk of lamb off Holly's plate.

Holly rolled her eyes at Gail and took a forkful of rice. "So, Viv, how was your week?"

"Fine. Elaine and Steve checked on me almost every day, though."

"Almost?" Holly glanced at Gail who looked unconcerned.

Actually Gail looked a little impish. "How was the party?"

Holly stared at Gail and then slowly, slowly, turned to regard Vivian. "Party?" Her voice was flat. Mad. That was 'about to be mad' Holly Stewart, and it was aimed right at her. People often thought that Gail, the cop, would be the more controlling and stickler-for-rules parent, but it was actually Holly who did not like people do things outside the norm. Sure, she dealt with a crisis well, but when there was an established status quo, Holly wanted to world to stick with it, thank you. Parties without parent being home weren't exactly a rule, but the understanding not to have them certainly was there. It was implied.

"Uh, fine. Fine. Boring actually." If she was busted, she was busted, but she may as well be honest. Vivian scratched the back of her neck. "Apparently I'm an ice princess."

Snorting a laugh, Gail finished her beer. "Did you have fun?"

"Not really, no. Spent the whole time worried people would screw stuff up."

With a sigh, Holly removed her glasses. "How did you know, Gail?"

"Our bedroom door was locked. After the vibrator incident, I've never worried about that kid going through our room." She gestured with her bottle as Vivian groaned and covered her face.

The vibrator incident. "That was your own fault, Mom. You _said_ the spare flashlight was in your drawer." Both Gail and Holly laughed, which was no help at all. "I hate you."

"Of course you do," agreed Gail, rather genially. "Did you impress them?"

Holly blinked. "Impress?" She looked from Gail to Vivian and back again.

"No," mumbled Vivian, getting up. "Not at all."

As she took the dishes to the machine, she heard Gail explain the only reason Vivian might want to throw a party would be to impress someone she was trying to date. Which was partly true. And hadn't worked out at all. They'd not really noticed that end of the effort, forcing Vivian to conclude they didn't like her that way.

But when she came back to the table, her mothers had moved on to talk about stupid things they'd done to impress people. Like trying softball, Holly teased, and Gail laughed. As it happened, Holly had learned to ride a motorcycle to impress a girl, and actually once owned one. That lead to Gail reminiscing about the time they borrowed Nick's motorcycle for a long weekend. Vivian gagged.

She had seen that photo, of course. Holly was in aviators and Gail's leather jacket, leaning on Nick's bike. Gail had taken the photo after loosing the coin toss for who got to drive the bike up to the cottage. It was, however, before her time.

"I should get a motorcycle permit," mused Vivian.

Conversation stopped. Moments like this was when Vivian wondered if parenthood conferred telepathy skills, because her mothers were staring at each other and only raising eyebrows. Finally Holly said, "You know I'm right."

Gail tossed her hands up. "I'm not asking Nick to teach her."

"Nick free zone," agreed Holly, and they both laughed. "Okay, Viv. You can get a motorcycle permit. Then when we go see my parents next, we'll rent bikes and go for a tour."

"Wait so I'm not grounded or anything?"

Both parents looked perplexed. "For what?" Gail tilted her head. "The party?" When Vivian nodded, Gail snorted. "Please. You're the most responsible kid out there, and we never said no parties."

Okay, that was true. "Liv got grounded."

"Olivia," sighed Holly. "Olivia is a handful and was expressly told _not_ to cajole you into throwing a party in her stead."

That was news to Vivian. "You should have told me," she frowned at her moms.

"I believe I said that," Gail smirked and Holly rolled her eyes. "Look, Monkey, did anyone get in on the guns or booze?"

"No."

"And you cleaned the whole house?"

"Yeah..."

"All good." Gail got up and tossed her bottle in the recycling. "Tomorrow's Sunday. I say we sleep in and have pancakes or something in the morning."

Holly smiled. "You're going to wake up early enough for breakfast?" She held up her empty beer bottle for Gail to throw away. "I'm going to shower and go to bed. Goodnight, Viv, honey." Giving Vivian a kiss to her forehead, Holly went upstairs.

It was amusing to watch Gail watch Holly go up the stairs. "We do the dumbest things for love," sighed Gail, smiling.

"Like kissing in interrogation?"

Gail shot her a wry look. "And coat closets. I'm hitting the sack too, Monkey." Her mother kicked the dishwasher closed and turned it on. "Coming up?"

Nodding, Vivian followed Gail out. "It's not like I got a lot of sleep last night," she yawned and Gail laughed. "Oh shut up, Mom." But Gail kept laughing as she turned to her room.

An hour or so later, while Viv was curled up in her window seat with her tablet, reading, there was a knock on her door. "You up?" That was Gail.

Vivian tossed off her afghan and opened the door. "Everything ooookay..." She trailed off as Gail stood there with a long box of the comics. Whoops. Now she was busted.

Gail nudged past and put the box down. "The Vertigo ones are in here. Early Sandman is great but the ending did get all weird. Hellblazer is ... inconsistently fucking awesome. And the did an American TV show, called _Constantine_ , that is a pretty great interpretation. Better than the movie."

"There was a movie?"

"It was really bad. That tool, Keanu Reeves, was Constantine."

Vivian screwed up her face. "He looks nothing like him!"

Her mother grinned. "I knew that was what you were reading!" Gail popped the lid and pulled out the first graphic novel. "I've always liked Constantine. He's horrible and venal and corrupt and self-destructive." Sitting in the window seat, Gail flipped through the pages.

"They're yours?"

"Hmm, yes. Holly likes more hopeful stuff. She's got some in the back." Gail smiled softly. "But you're like me. You'll like this, and Watchmen. Which is fucking twisted and dark and will mess you up. _That_ movie was good. Updated just enough to be believable and realistic, but still a period piece. The prequels are crap."

Vivian squatted by the box and flipped to the W's, finding a yellow graphic novel. "Aren't all prequels shit?"

"Star Trek's were alright."

"I'm _so_ telling Mom you said that," giggled Vivian. She read the back of the novel and blinked. This was incredible in its depth. "Are they all ... Old?"

Gail groaned. "I was gonna say no, but even Transmetropolitan is from before you were born. I haven't bought many since the 90s. Most of the novels I picked up when I was in college and the Academy."

She studied her mother for a moment. Rarely did Viv think of her mothers as being old, but the reality was they'd been in their late 20s and mid 30s when she was born. Holly was going to be 52 next summer. "Are we really going to all three days of the comic con?"

"God help me," sighed Gail. "Did you know they give me free tickets every year? All the nerd cons love me and John after we solved that stupid Khan case. And Chloe's begging to come along." Gail shook her head. "They are such a pair of nerds." Pausing, they both looked at the comics, and Gail smiled sheepishly as she acknowledged the fact that her comics were in her daughter's room.

Vivian tucked the comic back. "Your forty-fourth is coming up soon. You should do something without me around."

"So you _don't_ want to come to Europe next Christmas?"

Blinking, Vivian stared at her mother. "Seriously? I mean, I'll be in college."

Gail clutched her heart. "Oh god, no. No you are not old enough for college," she winced, being silly and overly dramatic.

"You're a goofball, Mom," smiled Vivian. She pushed the box closer to her bookcase. "Thanks."

"Well. Since you won't tell me who you've got a crush on, at least I can make your sleepless nights more entertaining." Gail yawned and stretched, seemingly ignorant of Vivian's blushing. "But if you do want to talk about it, you know Holly's great for that." She paused at the door. "Any time you want to talk, we're here."

Vivian only looked out of the corner of her eye, keeping her face turned away from her mother. "I know, Mom," she mumbled.

Gail nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Just don't do something stupid, okay? No running off and getting a quickie wedding in Vegas?"

That made her laugh. "God, no. Geeze, Mom, who's that stupid?"

The weird look on Gail's face gave her pause. "Like I said, kiddo, we do real stupid things when we think we're in love. G'night."

"Night, Mom." How weird, she mused as Gail closed the door. Well. Parents were allowed to have secrets, Vivian sighed and picked up the first Hellblazer graphic novel, settling in the bed.

The door opened again and Gail's blonde head popped in. "Oh, don't stay up all night reading comics." With an eye roll that told Vivian the admonishment came from Holly and not Gail, the door was closed again.

"Tell Mom I love her too," called Vivian through her door.

"Right," replied Gail, laughing.

As parents went, Vivian had to admit hers were pretty awesome. She looked at the ceiling and considered how incredibly lucky she was. The foster homes she'd lived in before them had been uncomfortable at best. They were just places you lived and hoped that nothing worse happened than already had.

There was a thought.

Putting the comic down, Vivian sighed and tried to remember better. Her sister was nothing but a photograph. Was that bad? She could remember, hazily, the faces of her parents. Holly had an abysmal memory for faces, often admitting she had trouble envisioning them and rarely recognizing the ones she saw regularly. On the other hand, Gail had a disturbingly freakish memory.

For the most part, Vivian remembered faces but more so she latched on to the feeling people gave her. Gail and Holly had given her a good feeling right away, she could remember that clearly. Eleven years ago.

Eleven.

More than half her life, which wasn't saying all that much when you were seventeen. But it felt like a long time to her. Vivian turned to look at the dinosaur border in her room. When they painted it, Gail had been trying to keep Vivian's spirits up. They'd been lying here with a book and Gail had joked about Princess T-Rex and Superhero Stegosaurus and Cowboy Velociraptor.

Vivian smiled and drew her legs up, slipping under the covers and propping herself against the headboard to read. Her mother's would move the earth to make her smile and make sure she knew they loved her. Even if it meant giving her the most precious, secret, nerdy thing Gail managed to hide from everyone else.

Just one, and then Vivian would go to sleep.

* * *

 _I love comic books. Archie and X-men included._

 _Tsundere Girl would mean someone who runs hot and cold and is hard to read. Gail and Vivian both fit the mould. It_ _'_ _s commonly used in Manga, which is what Olivia likes to read. Shojo Manga._

 _And yes, Vivian stayed up for hours reading comic books._


	12. Gone to Ground

**Chapter 12: Gone to Ground**

 **Type: Drama / Angst**

 **Rating: T**

 _Alluded to a few times, there was a case where Gail and John went undercover and went missing. Here it is, from Holly's perspective. Also someone asked why Holly didn't freak out when Gail got blown up. She did. It didn't affect that storyline enough, so you didn't see it there. Holly is good in a crisis after all.  
_

 _This takes place between chapters 8 and 3 of this fic, and is 18 months after the end of "Out With The Old._ _"_ _Vivian_ _'_ _s ten and a half and since this is the future of our world, I_ _'_ _m messing around with real world events._

* * *

The house was preternaturally quiet without Gail around, and Holly finally decided she didn't like it one bit. It didn't help matters that Vivian had slowly become very quiet and withdrawn herself. Viv's therapist assured them that everything was fine, but frankly it was worrying to watch the regression. She still had moments where she was gregarious, but generally Vivian only let her guard down if she was home alone with Gail and Holly.

Or. Just Holly right now.

Because Gail had been gone for three weeks on a case, much to everyone's annoyance. It hadn't even been planned. Gail had called Holly on her way out, explaining that Chloe had tumbled onto a hot case and she and John were going undercover, now, without even a chance to go home. And she loved Holly, please take care of herself and Vivian, but especially herself.

Inspector Butler had come over that night to explain to Holly and Vivian in a little more detail what was going on, but Holly had to wait until the next day for the real explanation. The public story was that the case had become troublesome and Gail and John were needed to be on location. The truth was far more horrifying.

The newly minted Prince of Wales was coming into the country. Charles had, rather unexpectedly, forsaken his claim, citing his age as a mitigating factor. He had been the oldest heir in British history, and with his own waning popularity, he felt it more appropriate that his eldest son take the position. Thus William, Prince of Wales, was making a whirlwind tour of the territories.

Naturally the Prince was with his family. Naturally there were some anti-royalists. Naturally there was an assassination plot centered in Toronto. Chloe, John, and Gail needed time to buy into the cell, get evidence, and stop it before July. Which was great, and Holly believed in her wife's ability to do anything, but... She was still spending a month, give or take, as a single mom, worrying about Gail the whole time.

The only good thing was that she knew the Royals would be done with Ontario in July, and Butler swore he couldn't see this taking longer than that. The Prince and clan were only expected on being in Canada until the fifteenth, and then it was off to the States and then Mexico. A whirlwind summer tour.

When they'd first heard about it, Gail suggested taking Vivian to Europe for a month in the summer the next year. She'd be eleven by then, after all. Vivian had been interested enough in the idea, asking how old Gail had been when she first went to Europe, and asking Holly why she'd never been. That was a good family memory.

Right now the ten year old was slouching on the couch, reading a science fiction novel, looking sullen. It was interesting how easily she could read her daughter's mood from how she sat. That had taken her a while to master, though Gail caught on to it quickly. Then again, Gail was still childish in many ways.

"Honey, what should we have for dinner?"

"Who's coming over?"

The house had been cluttered with guests almost every night, making sure Holly wasn't alone. It just made things feel emptier when they left. "No one. Just us."

The girl barely looked up. "Pasta and chicken."

At least she wasn't shy about what she wanted. "Sounds good. Peas and Alfredo sauce?"

"Sure," muttered Vivian, hunkering down.

Holly sighed. Gail was so much better handling this particular mood. So what would Gail do? Gail would put the chicken in the pan, start the water, and then tell Vivian to move over and sit with her. Holly did that in her own way. She sat down and changed the TV to Sports Center. "We have the whole series," she told her daughter, gesturing at the book.

"They're good." Vivian eyed the TV. "Can we watch the soccer game?"

Changing the channel, Holly propped her feet on the couch. "You okay, honey?"

The book went down. "I miss Gail. It's too quiet."

Holly laughed. "I was thinking the same thing." She reached over and patted Vivian's legs. "She really fills up your life." Things may have been a little strained between them, romantically, at the moment, but Holly knew Gail loved her. They'd just both been working too hard and too much to make enough time for each other as they wanted. They needed to fix that.

"She's not going to be back by this weekend, is she?"

It was unlikely. "It's Thursday, so ... Probably not."

Vivian sulked more, hunching down. "How come you never have to go away like that?"

"I go to conferences and body farms," noted Holly.

"Yeah, but never without lots of planning. She just left!"

"Well. Gail's a detective, honey. You know that."

"I know, Mom," she grumped. "But she just vanished."

Squeezing Vivian's leg, Holly sighed. "Sometimes that's her job too. Before you moved in with us, she went off and had to pretend to be a Mountie." Holly picked up her iPad and pulled up the photos.

That interested her and Vivian squirmed to sit up. "Wow. Mom looks good."

"I think so, but I'm biased."

Vivian rolled her eyes. "She missed your birthday."

"She did," sighed Holly. They'd had a very nice, if quiet, anniversary. Just a dinner out with friends and family. Holly's birthday was supposed to be a concert. She'd hoped Gail would show up at the last minute, but instead she ended up giving the tickets to Nick, who swept Andy off, much to their delight.

"Aren't you mad?"

"A little, yes," she admitted. "But the first thing I learned about being in love with Gail was that she has to do this. It's who she is to go off and protect people."

"I don't like it," grumbled Vivian.

"I hate it," admitted Holly and Vivian's eyes widened in surprise. "I do. I hate that she has such a risky job, that people shoot at her, and that she puts strangers before herself. It scares the hell out of me." Sighing, Holly reached over and ruffled Vivian hair. "But I love her."

Eyeing her mother, Viv asked, "Why?"

Holly leaned back. "Sometimes I wonder." The girl gave her a droll look. "Honestly, I don't know, Viv. I just... So I was on a blind date at the Penny, and Gail was there. She bought me a drink, since we were doing the friend thing even though I had a _huge_ crush on her, and the whole time... The whole time I was there, Gail kept glaring at me and my date."

That seemed to amuse Vivian, who curled her lips into a smile. "What'd you do?"

"Well. The next day was the day Chloe was shot." She knew Viv knew that story. When Vivian had noticed the scar, Chloe had told a version of the story that was less terrifying than it might be. "And I got worried that Gail might get shot, so I went to Fifteen and dragged her into a room to talk."

The story clicked. "Oh! That's when she kissed you to make you stop talking." Vivian made a face that wasn't quite disgusted, but wasn't all that interested. They were going to have to have that other sex talk sooner rather than later.

Except. That was Gail's job. She was so much better at handling those things. "That was when we first kissed for real."

Vivian wrapped her arms around a pillow, hugging it to her chest. "You picked her, even though you coulda dated anyone," she said quietly.

Damn it. Holly need Gail as a sulky pre-teen interpreter. Her wife still spoke bratty and immature quiet well, even if she didn't act it anymore. "I did."

Vivian looked away. "That's weird," she remarked and focused on the soccer game.

Their relationship was odder than many parents and children, Holly knew that. It wasn't _just_ the adoption factor, or the two mothers. It was why Vivian had been in foster care, and the scars that still lingered. "You know, I never wanted to get married," she said absently.

That got her daughter's attention again. "To Mom?"

"To anyone." Getting up, Holly walked to the kitchen to get the pasta cooked. She was not surprised that Vivian followed along. "I always told my dad I was never getting married or having kids."

"Why'd you change your mind?"

"Gail," laughed Holly, amused with herself. "She snuck it up on me until it was my idea."

Sometimes Holly wondered how she'd gone from the girl who never wanted a family to the woman who couldn't imagine life without hers, but she had, and it was all Gail's fault.

So many things came back to the way Gail had changed her. The storm that broke over her had made her change in all the good ways. When Gail said Holly made her better, Holly often felt the same way. Gail didn't run away when she was scared, for example. Holly sure as hell did. She almost ran away across the continent and to another country. But Gail, for all she created emergency situations and got herself into trouble by shoving people away, she was dedicated and loyal.

Maybe that was why when Oliver came by her office at work to tell her that they'd lost track of Gail and the others, she didn't panic. She probably should have.

Years ago, before Vivian, Gail had sat on a car bomb and nearly been blown up. At the time, everyone praised Holly for being so calm and stable. It had all been over so fast, Holly'd not had time to process how horrific and terrifying it had been. She'd not even really gotten a grasp on it at the hospital, worried to the point of indigestion over Gail's general reaction to pain killers and propensity to nightmares.

It wasn't until days later, until after Steve told her that he'd proposed to Traci, that the shakes and fear set in. It was the weekend where Gail was camped out on the couch with an icepack on her ribs and a pinched face of agony in her sleep that it all sunk in. She could have lost Gail. Her wonderful, snarky, bitchy, goofy, silly, adorable, beautiful wife could have died and left Holly alone. Gail nearly died.

This was nothing new. Holly knew, she remembered Oliver telling her this was the hardest part. She'd cried on his shoulder once before about worrying that Gail was shot. But somehow in all the fuss and rush, Holly had forgotten what that felt like. The gut wrenching agony when your heart was ripped from your chest, when fear clawed at your throat, when every single word you could think to say was drowned in horror.

There was a possibility of a life without the woman she'd fallen in love with. A life ripped apart by some maniac with no care for others. A life where the words 'too soon' would be the only way to define the loss.

Not wanting to wake up Gail, Holly had slipped upstairs to the shower and used it to muffle her tears. She'd sobbed into a washcloth until, finally, she was empty and drained. Then she'd gone to the couch and picked up Gail's feet, placing them in her lap, and watched her wife sleep.

She never told Gail about that breakdown.

She was not going to break in front of their daughter but she was going to have to tell Vivian something.

"How serious is that, Oliver? Because I know Gail lost Chloe once…"

"It's pretty bad, darlin'. Their blind drop just showed up dead. We don't know if they knew he was a narc or not," sighed Oliver and he watched her face. "Are you okay?"

Holly laughed in a very un-funny way. Oliver was so very safe to break down in front of, but she didn't want to. She didn't feel like crying, she felt angry. Holly closed her eyes, "No, not at all, Oliver."

A warm hand touched her knee. "It's okay, Holly. This isn't like Perik or anything."

Flinching, Holly squinted at Oliver, "You're not making me feel better about this, Ollie." That was a memory she hadn't even associated with this. She should have. Gail hated UC work, probably because of Perik, but somehow after the first couple times, Holly stopped worrying about it. It had always gone well.

"Sorry. But that was a long time ago. Gail's better now."

Angry. Holly narrowed her eyes, "Don't you _dare_ say she did something wrong, Oliver. The only thing 'wrong' was not checking before she opened the door." Something Gail had never done since. She always checked, and always chastised Holly for not checking, until it was second nature.

Maybe the anger surprised Oliver. He leaned back. Had she never gotten mad in front of him before? "I just meant she's smarter now. She's played the game undercover and running the show. She knows how it all works."

Groaning and leaning back on the couch, Holly took off her glasses to rub her face. "That doesn't mean it'll all work right, Oliver."

"No," he sighed. "It doesn't. But I believe in her."

She didn't reply for a while. "How the hell am I going to explain this to Vivian?"

"You don't have to alone, darlin'." There were a few things Oliver was great at, and being that kind of dad you could lean on was one of them. "Why do you think Keystone Peck and Nash Peck have been over at your place all the time? When you were sick, we were all there for Gail. We're all here for you too. Okay? You're family."

Which was why Holly asked Oliver and Steve come over for dinner to help her break the news to Vivian. Oliver and Celery, and baby Jerry, had come over a few times since Gail was gone. At almost two, Jerry had become a handful and made Holly glad she hadn't had a baby with Gail.

Vivian, however, liked the kid a little. As long as she was sure Gail and Holly weren't having any of their own, she didn't mind them at all. "Hi, Uncle Ollie," she smiled as she opened the door.

"You're supposed to check that peephole first, darlin'," smiled Oliver.

"I did." As Vivian closed the door, she pointed to her stool. Height was a big issue when you were undersized, but with Gail's insistence that the door was always checked first, there was no option but the stool. "How come Celery isn't here?"

Oliver smiled and handed a box of cupcakes to Vivian, "How do you know she's not coming?"

"Because Mom's making meat."

Rolling her eyes, Holly checked the oven. "Don't worry, I'm following Gail's notes in the recipe." Her wife had 'helpfully' edited most of the cookbooks with corrections on how to best cook the food.

"You're a miniature detective," noted Oliver.

Quiet, Vivian studied Oliver as she set up dinner plates for five people. When Steve arrived, letting himself in with his key, he presented his niece with a box of mint Girl Guide cookies. Vivian stared at them for a moment and asked, in a disturbingly flat tone, "What happened to Gail?"

God help her, she had a smart daughter. Steve cleared his throat. "Viv... There's a thing about being a Peck." He sat down at the kitchen table and looked at his hands for a moment. "There are things we talk about. Things we know. And you don't have to know them. They're big and terrifying sometimes, but most importantly they're secrets. So if you want to know the truth, I'll tell you everything. But if I do, then you have to swear to keep this as the family and never tell anyone outside of it."

Holly swallowed. "Steve..."

She had heard that speech once before, from Gail, explaining why she and Elaine and Steve and Traci always knew so much about things. It was the talk, a Peck talk, that let Holly inside the walls where they were privy to all the secrets of the police and the politics of Toronto. Gail offered her the same out, the same deal. To know, you had to keep it a secret. But Holly had been in her 40s. Vivian was a child!

"Steve," rumbled Oliver, clearly on the same page as Holly just then.

"You asked me to tell them, Oliver. This is the deal. This is ... This is what it means to be a Peck. This is where it starts." Steve was the most solemn he'd ever been, the most serious save for his own wedding. He wasn't the goofy, quirky Peck who hid his own pain behind a mask, just like his sister. The mask was just different. "Holly?"

She had the final say, it seemed. Holly looked at Vivian, who was slowly sitting down at the table. "Vivian. You don't have to," she said gently. This was too soon, she cried internally. This was too young! You didn't tell a child these things! But a part of her understood and accepted the fact that at the same age, if not younger, Steve and Gail had been presented with the same choice.

Not all Pecks were police officers. Not all Pecks were invited to the inner sanctum, as Gail jokingly called it. Not all Pecks were as dedicated to their commitment to the city. Was this their defining moment? Was this the moment when they decided, for ill or nill, what to become?

"I want to know," Vivian said quietly and firmly.

Steve looked up at Holly and gestured with a slight chin twitch for her to sit down. "You watch the news, right?" When Vivian nodded, Steve exhaled. "The Prince and Princess of Wales are in the country, with their children, and someone wants to kill them." The girl's eyes widened, but she didn't look very surprised. "Chloe's CI found out about it and got an in for a small group of people."

"You mean Mom," said Vivian calmly. More calmly than Holly had been when they told her.

Nodding, Steve went on. "Gail and John and Chloe are pretending to be anti-royalists who want to help kill the Prince. They had to go right away if it was going to work."

"Is Mom good at undercover? Is John?"

"She can be," Steve admitted. "John I don't know. But they have Chloe, and she's phenomenal." Vivian nodded and reached under the table to grab Holly's hand. There was something else coming, and the girl could sense it. "When you're undercover, you have someone as a contact to talk to. Someone who passes on information too and from the rest of us."

Nodding again, Vivian said, "Like a blind drop? Like Lady Alys?" She turned to Holly for confirmation.

When Steve mouthed 'who?' to Holly, clearly perplexed, she smiled. "Lady Alys is a character in the books Viv's been reading lately. She's secretly a spy of the upper class, giving information to Imperial Security. Other spies drop off information with her, because she's family friends with the head of Security."

"That is ... That's weirdly complicated for a kids book," muttered Steve.

"It's not a kids book," Vivian scowled. "Is it?"

"No, it's not even a young adult book." While Vivian had been held back in school it wasn't for her intellect but for her maturity and mental health. The girl had been offended just enough by it to stop fighting most of her homework and was now reading well above what people seemed to think was her age level. She still struggled in French, but like many people, Vivian just didn't have a knack for languages. Gail had taken to bribery to boost her grades.

A memory suddenly clicked. Vivian had asked about Gail being home by that weekend yesterday because she'd had a French test, and Gail promised to take her to the range to go shooting if she had a B or higher. Wracking her brain, Holly dredged up that Vivian's grades were on the report card she'd not yet read. Crap. Holly would have to figure something out about that.

Steve scratched his hairline the same way Gail did when slightly nervous. "Similar, I guess." He glanced over at Oliver, who was sitting very quietly across the table. "Their contact went missing for a few days last week, and we weren't getting any information." The hand in Holly's twitched tightly and Holly realized Steve wasn't about to hold anything back. "He turned up dead two days ago."

The hazel eyes of her daughter sought out Holly's brown. "Is Mom...?"

"We don't know," Steve said softly. "We haven't heard anything from her, any of them, in a while. We have some people looking, mostly keeping an eye on the cell they're involved with, and there aren't any signs that they've killed anyone in the group. So there's nothing to worry about yet. It's not uncommon to lose people."

Now Oliver spoke up. "Gail lost Chloe once."

Steve winced. "And that was my fault. I had bad intel. But this isn't that. And I promise that we're doing everything we can."

Swallowing, Vivian asked, "Are _you_ scared, Uncle Steve?"

"A little," he admitted. "She's my sister, and I love her. I always worry about her."

In the heavy silence that follow, Oliver cleared his throat. "Did Gail tell you about the badge, Vivian?" He carefully brought his badge out of his pocket. "This is a promise about a lot of things, darlin'. It's a promise to the city and the people. It's a promise we make every day to them and to each other."

The hand in hers was a little cold and clammy. Holly squeezed it, trying to be reassuring. "To have each other's backs and come back to us," said Vivian quietly. "Mom told me."

"She will come back," Oliver said with amazing gentleness. "She'll come back, alive and well, because she's my Petulant Peck and amazing."

Steve nodded. "Gail is really awesome." They smiled around the table, generally in agreement. "Do you want to ask me anything?" Vivian shook her head. "If you think of anything, any time, call me. Okay?"

"Okay," said Vivian quietly.

"Same for me, darlin', any time. Your mom takes care of me." Oliver and Steve got up, both silently knowing that it was time to eat and not talk about deeper things for a while.

They teased Holly about how she cooked the meat and asked a very introspective Vivian about school and sports. Oliver told them about Baby Jerry and how he was toddling about, driving his sisters to distraction. But his newly sorted out collection of children went well. His two youngest lived with him, the middle with her mother, and the eldest was off at art college. Izzy wanted Gail and Holly to come to her first art show that winter.

But dinner was a time for normal conversations, and a desert of ice cream and mint Girl Guide cookies. Steve told Vivian about how Gail once ate two boxes and puked on his lap when they drove up to the cottage, which made her giggle. After the ice cream and some coffee, the men made their goodbyes. There were hugs for Holly, nods for the often still reluctant Vivian, and they made their way out.

After locking the door and turning on the alarm, Holly was not surprised to see Vivian loading the dishwasher. "You don't have to do that, honey," she sighed.

"I know, Mom," muttered the girl. "I just need to do something."

"I understand." She did, too. It was displaced stress. "Are you okay, honey?"

Vivian nodded, and then shook her head. "I wasn't worried. Now... Mom could die."

"She could. She has a dangerous job." Holly sat on the couch.

After a moment, Vivian sat down beside her, looking disturbed. "I don't know what I feel, Mom."

Holly wrapped an arm around Vivian's shoulder and drew her in for a gentle hug. "I'm scared," she said softly. Vivian sniffled, scrubbing her face with the back of a hand. "It's okay to be afraid, honey. This is a lot to take in." She lightly brushed at Vivian's hair, resting her cheek on her daughter's head.

And much like they did with Gail, the comforting hugs that were carefully dolled out when needed most were what broke the ten year old. Wracking sobs engulfed the child, shaking her entire body. Unlike Gail, a slightly undersized girl was easy to pull into ones lap and cradle her. Holly didn't try to shush the tears or calm her daughter. She remembered her mother holding her when her grandfather died, letting her sob until she wore herself out, gently rubbing her back to remind her she wasn't alone.

This part of parenthood came distressingly naturally. This was something Holly understood well. And this was a role Holly could play, a void she could fill, promising the girl she wasn't on her own. She held Vivian close and rocked her, trying to sooth and hoping to be supportive, until at last the tears ran dry and Vivian hiccoughed to a stop.

They didn't let go of each other, though. Holly leaned back into the couch and rested Vivian against her. "What happens if she dies?" Vivian's voice was barely a whisper.

"Then we will miss her very much, for as long as we live," sighed Holly. A world without the brittle, bickering Peck that had changed her life forever was a word she didn't want to exist in, but that was hardly a choice any more. She had someone who depended on her for all things.

Was that what held Gail together when Holly had been in isolation? Was that easier or harder? At least Gail had known the chances and risks involved in what ailed Holly. By contrast, Holly lived in a bubble of the unknown.

"I'm really both your daughter?"

Oh how that was a specific fear. "Yes you are, honey. You are very much our daughter." She kissed Vivian's forehead.

Vivian sniffled and then whispered, "I'm sorry."

"Why, whatever for?" Holly smoothed Vivian's hair down.

"For saying you weren't my real mom."

That took Holly for a turn. "Oh, honey," she laughed. She had to laugh. "It's okay. I forgave you a long time ago." That felt like a lifetime ago, when Vivian was seven and convinced Gail and Holly were going to have a baby and not want her anymore.

But her daughter insisted, "It was mean and wrong."

"Alright, honey, it's alright." She hugged Vivian close again. "Come on. Let's go shower and get some sleep, okay?"

It was days like this that Gail would keep her arm around Vivian's shoulder and walk her up the stairs. And so Holly did. She wished her daughter to sleep well and hesitated in her own room.

Did the room feel this big and empty when it had been Gail sans Holly? Had Gail felt the same aching hollowness? The empty, soul sucking, agony that wrung her out and made every step heavy and painful? Holly couldn't cry silently like Gail, so she took refuge again in the shower. They hadn't lived here the last time. She hadn't had the privacy of a bathroom in their bedroom. With both doors closed, Holly let herself sob in the relative safety of the shower, knowing she wouldn't be heard.

God, it hurt. The memories of being terrified to touch Gail after she hurt her jaw and again after that bomb were too close to the surface. Those horrible days when she worried over the fragility of a woman she knew she loved were nothing compared to now. Now she had years of marriage, but not enough, where she knew exactly what she'd be losing without the snarky blonde.

It took a while to drag herself past her fears and pain. Holly wished she could call her own mother, to sit beside her and have a hug that promised everything would be alright. That was the trouble with adulthood. You had to be the giver of hugs, not the receiver. And while Gail had been able to call her parents to explain what was going on, Holly could not. She could call Elaine, but even with the recent years, Elaine was not a hugger.

That actually made her laugh. The idea of Elaine hugging her while she cried. Holly's laughter took her over, soothing her jangled nerves. Gail hadn't left her alone. Gail would never leave her alone. Gail gave her a goofy brother-in-law, a brilliant if sometimes evil mother-in-law, a wonderful daughter, and myriad friends and friends who were nearly family. All of them, every last one, would understand and be there to help, should the worst happen.

Holly washed her hair, wrapped herself up in her favorite pajamas and Gail's robe, and sat on the bed. The report card was still in its envelope on the nightstand. She opened and stared at a line of As and Bs. Even for French. Then she picked up her phone to call Elaine, though not for comfort.

"Holly, have you ... I'm sorry. How are you?"

The greeting was so Elaine it nearly made her laugh again. "I'm managing," sighed Holly. "And ... I don't know what you've heard." Holly sat on the bed. "This is a very awkward conversation isn't it? I don't want to tell you over the phone and neither do you."

And it was her mother-in-law who laughed dryly. "Have you spoken with Steven lately?"

"They told me yesterday."

"Ah, good. No more news?"

"None, no. But ... They told Vivian today."

A short inhale prefaced Elaine's grumble. "So. I'm so sorry, Holly. It's a heavy burden to bear. Is she alright?"

Holly shook her head. "No, she's not. She's terrified. Which is why I need a favor."

"Anything," Elaine replied promptly, with no hesitation.

"Can you take Vivian to the range on Monday or Tuesday?"

"I did not expect that," muttered Elaine. "Holly, not to be brusque, but you hate guns."

She sighed. "I do. But Gail's been bribing Viv to get better French grades, and my child asked to come to the range."

The former police Superintendent sighed as well. "It is effective. I did that with Gail and her science classes."

Holly filed that tidbit away for later. "Can you? If not, I could ask Oliver or Steve, but ... I think Gail would rather it were you."

"I can be free, but I don't have a gun for her. Do you ... This really is an odd conversation. Do you have the combination for the gun safe? I can't think Gail didn't have something ready for her."

Pursing her lips, Holly realized that she did. "I do. At least I think I do. She changes it from time to time."

"As well she should," agreed Elaine. "How about I come over Monday? When will she be home from school?"

"I'm picking her up at four."

The sound of paper rustled. "I'll come by at five, then. We can go to the range and go to dinner. Would you come?"

Outside of Gail's birthday shoots, Holly didn't go to the range, save the one time they'd gone and Holly had spent the time admiring Gail's ass. It was a nice ass. "Only if you don't make me try to shoot."

"I promise," chuckled Elaine. "And Holly, if you need anything... I know I'm not as heartwarming as Lily, but I am here for you and Vivian."

It sounded so awkward and heartfelt, Holly found herself smiling. "Thank you, Elaine. It means a lot coming from you."

She put her phone on the charging mat and lay back. The bed that felt just right when Gail curled up with her was so empty now. Most of her life she'd had a queen sized bed, but after Gail broke her ribs they got a king sized. Holly admitted it gave her room to spread out, which she loved, but she rarely spent any time in it alone.

There had been a time, when they were just dating again, that Gail had spent many nights at her own apartment with the boys. Those nights had been some of the longest and loneliest in Holly's adult life. She had quite hated it. So quickly, Gail had worked her way into her heart. The incredible fragility and strength that came with Gail was so drawing. And Holly was swiftly addicted to seeing the look on the blonde's face as she slept, the sweet innocence and youthfulness in her smile.

She sighed. The truth was she was in love with Gail. Not a shock to anyone, though it had been to her at the time she realized it. She loved Gail and she missed her, and now she had to trust her wonderful, wise, clever, wife was all the cop she felt her to be. She had to trust and hope.

The knock at the door surprised her. "Come on in, honey," she said, wiping her eyes just in case.

Vivian poked her head in. "Mom... I know I'm too old for it, but can I sleep in here?"

After the failed sleepover with Olivia, Vivian had slept with them and Gail said she didn't care if Viv was never able to sleep away from home. They would figure it out. "I was thinking this bed was far, far, too large without Gail," smiled Holly.

"That's gross, Mom," muttered Vivian, but she climbed into the bed on Gail's side, swapping out Gail's pillow for the middle one.

The girl was far too wise. Holly sheepishly traded her pillow for Gail's before getting under the covers. "I promise the sheets are clean," she joked and Vivian gagged good-naturedly.

Their weekend passed uneventfully, without any more news. Both Vivian and Holly watched the regular news, tracking the journey of the Prince without having to say why. Vivian pointed out, Sunday evening, that she might have to hate him if he became king. Then she asked if Gail would get any medal for this, which Holly admitted she didn't know.

Monday came along and Vivian dragged herself through the morning. When Holly set her off on the bus to school, she tried to muster the where with all to go to the office. The last week had been a bit of a haze, and it wasn't getting much better. But she had to go to work, she had to do the normal things in life, because normal was keeping her going and keeping life under control.

That afternoon, Vivian poked at her homework while Holly finished her work. "Honey, you need to finish that up."

"Why? It's not like we're going anywhere," she grumbled.

Holly sighed and sat down beside her. "Once you're done, we can do something else."

Vivian shot her a look. "Fine, whatever," she muttered, and bent her head to the math worksheet. When the doorbell rang, Vivian looked up worriedly.

"It's fine," smiled Holly, going to let Elaine in. "You're early."

"My meeting finished early. I saw your friend Rachel. She had a lovely pitch for more money." Elaine smiled and looked at the kitchen table. "How close is she to being done?"

Holly shrugged. "She's got a great talent to drag it out." They headed to the stairs. "Viv, honey, finish that up. We'll be in the office."

"Is it about Mom?" The blurted question came out in a rush.

"No, dear," smiled Elaine. "Well... In a way. Your mother informed me you got a B+ in French."

There was a moment of confusion before understanding bloomed on the child's face. "Really? I can... Really?"

"Finish your homework," Holly said firmly, and was rewarded with Vivian quickly setting to her work. "I swear, she'll make a fifteen minute worksheet take two hours if I let her."

Elaine laughed softly. "She is rather unique. I suspect you were the one who did all your homework right away?"

Holly smirked. "I wanted to go play experiments outside."

"Gail just wanted to go away. Anywhere else. She didn't care if she was alone." Elaine looked a little sad about it, but shook her head. "Alright. Let's see how smart my daughter was a month ago?"

Staring at the gun safe for a moment, Holly carefully entered the code. Six random numbers that Gail changed on some random date in a random pattern. And it worked. "For starters, I sure feel smart," muttered Holly, stepping aside to let the expert inspect the safe.

Elaine stared at the inside and then pulled out a small pistol that was in an open box with a tag saying it was cleaned recently. "This is the first one Gail used," she said, clearly surprised. "I cannot believe she kept it."

"She still uses it. She uses _all_ of them," grumbled Holly.

"That I can believe." Elaine found a small case and packed the gun in, along with some ammunition. "That was one of the more sensible Peck rules. Never have something you don't use."

"Did you know she can tell you exactly the date she used each of those?"

Her mother-in-law paused and looked over, eyebrows lifted high. She clearly had not. "I shouldn't be so surprised. Gail has always had an incredible memory."

But Holly corrected. "She works very hard at it. The memory. She learned that." No matter how hard she tried, Holly couldn't keep the tinge of bitterness out of her voice. "She tries so hard to be everything they expected of her, hating it every step."

The red eyebrows stayed up. "She'll be fine, Holly," Elaine, offered softly, closing the safe and locking it.

"I know," mumbled Holly, rubbing her face. She didn't know, but she had to trust.

Surprisingly, Elaine took hold of Holly's shoulders. "Holly, look at me." She looked at Elaine's blue eyes and blinked. They were more grey than Gail's, more like Steve. Gail's eyes had the ability to go from dark and guarded to bright blue. Her mood was always evident in her eye color. Gail's mother's mood was harder to read. "Gail will be fine."

"I know-"

Elaine cut her off. "No. You don't. You're hoping. _I_ know. The same way I always knew Steven would be fine. Because my children are amazing and brilliant and talented and smart. I may have done everything wrong, but they still are wonderful, and they will always come home."

Holly had never heard Elaine talk about anyone like that. Certainly not her own children. Most definitely never to their faces. But there was something about those words, sinking in now, that made her feel a little more than faith and hope. "She'll be fine," said Holly carefully.

"That's right." With a firm squeeze of her shoulders that was probably as close as Elaine got to a hug (seriously, Holly couldn't remember her ever hugging anyone), the older woman let go. "Now. Let's go take my granddaughter to the firing range and then out for dinner."

Downstairs was a ten year old who was all but vibrating with excitement. She had stacked her homework out for Holly to check. "Do you have a reading assignment?"

"Did it."

Holly pulled her phone out and checked the homework app they'd picked up recently. The school used it and it let the teachers set homework due dates. The kids could only mark them as done or not, and if the kid was under 18 or left the app open, a parent could monitor their kid's progress. Even with the ultra light load for summer school, Vivian had a few things to do.

Math, remedial French, a fun science class, a sports group. And it had all been Vivian's idea, to the point that she badgered Olivia into joining her for some of it. Not the French. Olivia hadn't managed to fail an entire exam by writing purposefully incorrect answers about how the teacher was an idiot.

After Gail stopped being pissed off that Vivian failed, she'd found the humor in it, but it had been a rather bad day. That had been the first, and thus far only time that Gail had been out and out mad at Vivian. It was startling to everyone, but afterwards both Gail and Vivian apologized and talked about it, so Holly wasn't terribly worried after. At the time though, yikes. Take a kid that reacted poorly to people yelling at her and a woman who had moments where she snapped ... Gail had sat her ass down with her therapist for a long talk after that. Both the therapist and Holly pointed out that while Gail had been mad, she'd never raised her voice. And it was normal to be mad about a smart kid doing things like that.

But that was months ago. Now there was no more screwing around at school. Now Vivian was serious, as much as a ten year old could be, about her homework. And whether or not Gail was home, the French was getting done. While Holly checked the math and science, Elaine almost absently picked up the French and read it over.

Of course Eliane was fluent. She made a couple corrections and handed the paper back for Vivian to fix. "So," said Elaine carefully. Nothing below a B?"

"Not a thing," confirmed Holly.

"Well then. Do you have shooting glasses and ear covers, Vivian?" When Vivian shook her head, Elaine nodded. "I have spares. Shall I drive, Holly?"

"Considering I don't know where we're going... Let me grab Viv's booster seat."

That surprised Elaine. "Still?"

"I'm short," grumbled Vivian. "It sucks."

Holly smiled and ducked into the garage to grab the seat from Gail's car. She'd picked it up the day after Gail vanished, and it really was one of the few times she'd driven it. All the talk about getting her a new car aside, Holly still had her nice, if old, sedan. She had her eye on an SUV but was content to wait. So many other things had taken precedence, and her car was just fine.

The drive to the range was, interestingly, the one at the station. Elaine explained they'd not give Vivian any grief and it was what she'd done with Gail and Steve at the same age.

"Mom had a gun at my age?"

"She did. It's the same on you're going to use. We went to the range once a week since she was eight," confirmed Elaine, signing them in. "Are you sure you're just going to watch, Holly?"

"Very sure," she said firmly, handing over her driver's license for ID. The man at the counter seemed to know Elaine. Vivian, without an ID, was signed for by Holly. "Would it be alright if she came with her grandmother without her parents?"

The man blinked. "Grand... Uh, yes, we have a form." He eyes Holly for a moment, then her ID, and then seemed enlightened. "Oh, you're Dr. Stewart from the lab." He slid over a form for her. "Just drop that off whenever. You can list people you're alright taking her, family or not."

"Uncle Oliver?" Vivian was hopeful.

"Maybe," demurred Holly, feeling out of place and a little worried that Vivian was so excited about this prospect. "When Gail gets back, we'll talk."

As they went to the range itself, Holly was surprised to see someone she knew. "Holly?" Sue Tran was just setting up in a cubby. "I didn't know you shot."

"Hi, Sue. I don't." Reaching over, she rested a hand on Vivian's shoulder. "Have you met my daughter?"

Sue grinned. "Gail told me about her the last case we had. Vivian, right?" Sue held out a hand. "Sue Tran, I work in bomb dispersal."

Vivian's eyes went wide. "Wow. Bombs? Are _you_ the one who pulled Mom out of the car?" As Sue nodded, Vivian exhaled, "That's so cool."

The adults laughed. "Thanks, kid." Sue glanced around Holly and did a double take. "Superintendent- uh Mrs- um..."

"Try 'Elaine,'" hissed Vivian, helpfully. Holly blinked and smothered a smile, recognizing hero worship when she saw it. So her kid liked someone who blew things up for a living. Wasn't that interesting.

"Hello Sgt. Tran," smiled Elaine. "I was going to give Vivian a shooting lesson."

Sue looked a little relieved. "Oh. That makes sense," she said after a moment. "Gail's not..." Sue trailed off and looked concerned.

Again, Vivian had an answer. "Mom's away on a case. Otherwise she'd be here, since she promised to teach me."

And Sue nodded. They chatted a little about guns, Sue showing her own official gun, while Elaine showed both hers and the small form pistol Vivian was going to use. In a weird way, having Sue there and demonstrating gun safety and responsible respect of the weapon was a good thing. She somehow filled the void of Gail and Vivian's hero worship seemed to flatter the bomb tech.

Holly was a little worried about Vivian's growing fascination with Gail's work. She still showed the same level of interest with Holly's job, but there was something about what Gail did, what the police did, that was drawing in their daughter. Holly wondered if Gail had seen it already or was it just something new in this month. The interest in policing covered Sue as well, and Vivian asked for all sorts of details about her work while they got set up.

She took photos of Vivian shooting, trying hard not to smile at the very serious face her daughter wore. When Gail had taken Holly shooting, she'd done fairly poorly. Vivian was already as good as Holly's best. It would be more disconcerting if Holly wasn't sure Viv was really trying hard.

That night, all through dinner and on the way home, Vivian talked non-stop about how cool it was to meet Sue and how cool shooting was, and did Holly see how well she did, and could she keep the papers to show Gail? Rarely did Vivian get chatty. It was nice to have, even for a moment, even if Vivian wasn't talking about herself and her feelings.

Once home, Vivian sacked out in bed moments after her shower, absolutely bushed from the effort of the range. Elaine had stuck around just to chat and she and Holly laughed to find Vivian asleep on top of the covers, wet hair sticking out wildly, pajamas clearly just pulled on. Holly carefully tucked her under the covers and plugged her phone in.

"I didn't find it that exhausting," smiled Holly, leaving the door a crack open.

"It's a lot of mental work. She's not used to it yet."

Holly caught the word 'yet' and frowned. "I don't think I'm really happy she's into this."

"It may fade once the novelty has worn off." But Elaine didn't look like she bought that either.

"Well. I'm not going to worry. She's ten. A lot happens between ten and twenty," decided Holly. Even though at a younger age, she herself had known for certain that she'd wanted to work with dead bodies, exactly how that would be had been refined a few times. "Thank you, Elaine."

There was a smile Holly had seen on Elaine before. A fake smile. This wasn't it. This smile was similar to Gail's, but a bit closer to Steve's self-abashed smile of delight. "You're both- all very welcome. I'm happy to help, Holly."

It was awkward. Had it been Lily, they would have hugged. Elaine didn't hug. "Do you want some coffee for the road?"

"No, thank you."

She walked Elaine to the door and hesitated. "Elaine. The day after tomorrow, we're going to the batting cages. If you'd like to come..." Holly bit her lip. Well done, Stewart, making it even more awkward.

And to her surprise, Elaine blushed. "I can't say as I'm any good at sports..."

"Gail threw the bat at the ball," noted Holly, amused. "You avoid that and your first time will be miles better."

The only question Vivian had in the morning was if she was allowed to tell her friends about going to the range. Holly decided to say no, just remembering that it was something Gail rarely talked about and never bragged about. A gun, after all, was not a toy. Vivian accepted that, and the next two days were quiet. The delight of the range kept Vivian's mood buoyant and light, though Holly's own were considerably less so.

Her therapist had been supportive through the whole thing. It was normal to feel this way, normal to be scared and too tense and to have an incipient headache the whole time. Holly worried about little things, like how was Gail coping without her own therapist. Should her wife have been medicated? The anger issues seemed under control for the most part, but the underlying cause of depression, one Holly had been surprised to find she shared, had been difficult.

When her doctor told her she thought Holly was depressed, it was a shock. After all, Holly wasn't _sad_. She wasn't numb either. But when Gail said she had wondered about that given some of Holly's reactions to change or bad moments, Holly agreed to sit down and talk about it. Unlike Gail's issues, which all were related to actual damage, Holly's did respond to medication. Antidepressants and thyroid medication were her daily routine.

It did bother Holly to know why Gail couldn't take anything. The day they'd finally gotten a good doctor who listened to the story, the chronic nightmares, the mix of drugs used, the lab reports, the reactions Gail had on Oxy and other painkillers, and said he thought Gail's problem was, yes, PTSD, but also brain damage from the drug. Gail was highly susceptible to drugs, her neurotransmitters overreacted to them, had been a heavy one.

What it meant was that just the day spent being, carefully, dosed by Perik had fractured part of Gail's brain chemistry. This _was_ her normal. This would be her normal forever. She wouldn't be able to take many medications, if at all, to help counteract the damage. Why didn't alcohol bother her much? Her liver was highly functioning, but she should probably not drink much either.

While Holly had taken it with difficulty, Gail seemed relieved. To know it was outside her control was a relief. She was broken, yes, but there was a reason behind it that she could understand and wrap her head around. The nightmares were locked in from the drugs, the control issues the same. And she'd never had the right support structures when growing up so when the horrible things had happened, she internalized them.

There wasn't a cure for Gail. There wasn't one for Vivian either, whom they were sure was blocking out some memories still. It was hard to ask about it. Holly didn't want to alone, that was for sure. But she didn't want to ignore it either. It was so much harder, inching around someone else's pain than your own. Holly didn't want to go to therapy on her own, not without someone to keep tabs on the kid. She also didn't want to bring Vivian along, like she had before, allowing both of them to talk together about how they felt.

In the end, Vivian went to the Best home with Olivia after summer classes. There, after all, she could talk to Frank and Noelle about getting to use a gun without worrying it was bragging. Olivia had no interest in it, being still more intrigued by science and math. She always wanted to come over to Vivian's house and listen to Holly tell her about cases.

But that afternoon was for Holly to unburden herself to her therapist. Willingly or not, she had to go regularly and she knew it. They talked about how it felt to have Vivian included in on the secrets of Peck, and did Holly really feel that Viv would remain interested in police-work forever. She did hope it was just a passing phase, that the interest was directly related to Gail's current work, but she also steeled herself for the eventual possibility that she'd be the mother and wife of a police officer.

The thoughts were heavy, putting pressure on her shoulders and back, for the next day. It was like a black cloud hovered over her. What would be of her daughter in a decade's time? What would be of her wife in a day? Oliver and Steve both had no news, which was not helping at all.

As she headed to her car after work, her phone rang. "Hello, Oliver. Please don't give me bad news. I don't think I can take it."

"Darlin' I have someone who wants to talk to you."

Immediately Holly felt her heart thud and she leaned against her car. Could it be? "Hey, Holly," exhaled a very tired sounding Gail.

Relief washed through her system. Her legs went weak and she had to rest her weight on the car, pillowing her head on an arm. "Oh. Hi, Gail," she whispered, trusting the phone to pick it up. She couldn't think of what to say.

After a moment of silence, Gail cleared her throat. "It's over. I'm on my way home as soon as they pick my brain. I'm probably getting out of here in an hour or two. It's really annoying, by the way, and I miss my own clothes." She paused. "You still there?"

"I missed your voice," Holly said quietly. She didn't realize how much she had missed hearing Gail's voice until that moment, how much all parts of her, ears and eyes and skin, all craved the blonde.

Gail laughed tiredly. "I'm sorry, Holly. I really didn't think... This was just so crazy."

"Your brother's kept us in the loop."

There was a weird sound and then Gail shouted, away from the phone. "Steven Peck!" In the background, Holly heard Steve shout for help. "I'm going to kill him, Holly. He wasn't supposed to get Viv-"

"Stop." And Gail did. Holly had figured that out pretty well. She could stop Gail with a word. "I asked him to help me explain it to her."

"Oh. God, I'm so sorry, Holly. I never wanted you to... I mean, that... He _told_ her."

"He did, same as you told me, honey. Vivian needed to hear it. Okay?"

"No," laughed Gail. "No, not at all. God."

Gently, Holly changed the subject. "I have your car. At home. Do you need me to pick you up?"

Gail snorted. "You just want my car. No, I'll get a ride from Oliver or someone."

An idea crept up on Holly. "How evil do you want to be?"

"People rarely ask me that," mused Gail. "Why? Did you have plans, wifey?"

"I was going to take Viv and your mom to the batting cages tonight. We cancel or..."

Gail paused. "Oh hell yes, Holly. I will meet you there." She positively cackled. "I love you."

That just warmed her and Holly closed her eyes. "I love you, Gail. Go be debriefed so I can get you sooner."

"Yes ma'am. Love you."

Holly repeated the endearment, but Gail had already hung up. She leaned on the car, feeling a little limp. For so long, she'd been in a state of worry and tension, it was like all her strings were cut. Relief. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she whispered, to whomever or whatever there was that had brought her wife back. Gail was the atheist. Holly was closer to agnostic. It didn't matter now at all. Her wife was home.

It was hard to keep it a secret, though. She desperately wanted to tell Elaine, to share in the delight with someone. But she knew how much Gail would thrill in being able to surprise so Holly held it close as she picked up Vivian from school. They went through the pre-batting cages routine of a light snack, homework, and then (after Holly changed) off they went.

Vivian was surprised and happy to see Elaine there. When she found out that Elaine had never batted before, Vivian firmly told her _not_ to throw the bat.

Holly fought to keep a smile off her face as she video'd Elaine swinging at the ball and missing. Repeatedly. Gail was going to love this. Every time Elaine got it wrong, Vivian would correct something - grip or stance - and try again. It reminded her of watching Elaine struggle to play Mario Kart.

"Wow, Mom's _bad_ ," muttered a very familiar voice. Two pale hands took hold of Holly's waist and turned her around.

"It's clearly hereditary." Holly shoved the phone into her pocket and cupped a familiar face in her hands. "Hi," she exhaled quietly, looking into the blue eyes.

"Hi." Gail smiled and started to lean forward but hesitated. "I missed you."

It was a little endearing to see Gail so nervous. Holly shook her head and leaned in to kiss her slowly and gently. "I missed you too, honey." Brushing her thumbs over Gail's cheekbones, Holly tried to determine if they were sharper. Gail looked exhausted, her skin a little extra pale even under the sunburnt nose. The black hair didn't help matters at all. It was _not_ a good color on her at all. Maybe browner. Not true black. But she was there at all, and Holly just drank in her wife's presence with her eyes.

They just looked at each other for a while, grinning like idiots, until Vivian spotted them. "Moms!"

"Hi, Monkey. Hi, Mom," laughed Gail. She let go of Holly with one arm, keeping the other snug around Holly's waist. "Surprise."

Vivian hesitated and then stepped in to Gail's open side for a hug hello and then stepped back to bounce on the balls of her feet. "You're home for good?"

"Yep, case is over. World is saved. I am Champion of the Universe."

Elaine put down the bat and looked relieved. "Thank god. Please tell me I can stop now."

"You're really bad," agreed Gail. "Why did you even come?"

"Your daughter hit the bullseye." Elaine held her helmet to Gail, who accepted it. There were still no hugs of greeting with the Pecks. Not even Gail and Steve deigned to that expression of familiarity.

Gail looked down at Vivian. "You went with Elaine?" Their daughter held up her phone, showing a photo of her target. "Holy crap, Viv! That's awesome!"

The girl puffed up and blushed. "Miss Elaine helped me. Can I get my own?"

Amidst the happiness of having Gail back, the idea of her daughter owning a gun washed ice cold across Holly's heart. Even Gail stiffened. "That's something to talk about as a family, Monkey," delayed Gail, glancing at Holly. She was apologetic. "Besides. You're ten. You can't even get a junior license for a few more years."

Vivian pouted a little. "But Miss Elaine said you had one when you were ten."

Stifling a groan, Gail gestured at herself, "No, I had a gun I was allowed to use. And I'd been handling guns since I was in diapers, kiddo." She gave her mother a glare.

Thankfully, Elaine chimed in on their side. "Gail also had to show she was responsible enough to use a gun. She wasn't allowed to brag to her friends, she had to be serious on the range, and she had to be able to take apart, clean, and put a gun back together on her own."

Vivian's eyes widened. "Okay," she said thoughtfully. Then, "Are we leaving right away?"

Holly smiled. "No, we can keep playing for a little." With childish delight, Vivian picked up her bat and asked Gail to press the button. Gail kissed Holly's cheek and obliged. "Thank you, Elaine."

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't realize that's what she was after when she asked when Gail had her first gun."

"Conversations with Vivian often take a turn to the unexpected," admitted Holly, sighing. "Thank you for taking her shooting, though. She was so looking forward to it."

They both watched Vivian and Gail take turns batting. After all the years, Gail was about as good as a average ten year old. Alas, Vivian was better than the average ten year old. They didn't play much longer, Holly noticing Gail's flagging energy quickly. That was the reason for takeout and a relatively quieter dinner at home, with both Elaine and Vivian making sure Gail and Holly got to relax and sit on the porch swing after.

"Are you okay?" Holly kept her voice a whisper.

"Besides being exhausted, yes, I'm fine," Gail replied just as softly. "And yes, we got the guys."

Holly shook her head, "Yeah, I don't care about that." And Gail snorted a laugh at her. "I don't. I care about you, you idiot." She kissed Gail's cheek.

"So you don't want to meet the royals?"

"Meh," shrugged Holly. "Only if you're getting a medal."

Gail made a face. "Probably not for ages. This is so far beyond classified it's like, mind wipe time." She paused and looked at the house. "How much did Steve tell Viv?"

"Your brother indoctrinated her," Holly grumbled.

The arm around her tightened and Gail said she was sorry. "I really didn't think that far about it."

"I think it's alright. I asked him to help."

"Steve's not a parent like this," sighed Gail. "Leo's moved out. He doesn't have to think about things the same way."

That was what Elaine had said too. "She appreciated it, so we'll see." Holly leaned into Gail's shoulder and laced their fingers together. "So. The hair."

Gail laughed softly and stifled a yawn. "It's horrible. I know. It's cheap dye, and it's washing out. You should see John, he's got blond tips and the rest is red."

The mental image was hilarious, and Holly giggled. "You're exhausted, honey. How about a shower and we go to bed?"

"It's barely nine," whinged Gail.

"And you'll sleep twelve hours."

Gail opened her mouth, closed it, and sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry. I have _no_ energy," she muttered.

"Need a piggyback ride upstairs?"

Swatting her shoulder, Gail smirked and got herself up and inside. A moment later, Holly followed her, carrying their drinks. Gail was quietly talking to Elaine about something while Vivian loaded the dishwasher. "Can I skip school tomorrow?"

Normally Holly was fairly laid back about skipping a day of school. Rarely did it impact anyone's entire life. Except this week. "This is the last week, honey."

Vivian sighed. "Fine. But Mom better take off next week. Can we go to the cottage?"

"We'll see," smiled Holly, kissing her daughter's forehead. "Go to bed, okay? I think we all need an early night."

"Yeah." She paused and looked at Holly. "I'm really happy Mom's home, Mom."

Holly grinned. "So am I." She went up to the master bedroom and found Gail already in bed, in one of Holly's shirts, half asleep. "Hey, I don't mind if you sleep," she told the blonde... Well ... Not blonde.

"Wanted to see you," yawned Gail, curling up.

It was flattering. "Viv thinks we should go up to the cabin next week."

Sleepily, Gail winced. "Can't. Prince wants to meet us."

Holly blinked. "Prince as in Wills?" Her wife nodded. "God. I hope your hair can be fixed by then."

And Gail giggled. "Nerd. Wanna met 'em too?"

She had thought Gail was joking before. "That ... Might be kind of neat. Weird." Holly sat on the bed and kissed Gail's forehead. "Go to sleep. I'll be here."

Gail scowled but her eyes were barely open. "Love you."

Smiling, Holly went to the shower and, in the pause and quiet, she felt the tears working their way up. She tried to smother it, cover it with a cloth as she shook with the sobs of relief. For so long she'd been scared and feeling alone, adrift without Gail. The steady shore felt so odd and uncomfortable.

The fit passed as quickly as it came on her. She exhaled shakily, scrubbing her face and washing her hair before coming back to the bed. Gail was, surprisingly, sitting up, hugging her knees.

"I'm sorry," Gail whispered softly.

Holly blinked. She opened her mouth, the words to tell Gail there wasn't anything to be sorry about were there in her mind. What came out was a harsh gasp, a hitched pain as she saw her wife, there in their bed, finally. It hurt. It had hurt for so long the absence of the pain itself was just as agonizing. She couldn't help and sat down on the bed, covering her mouth. Gail scooted over and wrapped her arms around Holly, hugging her close and whispering that it was okay, they were okay, and she was okay.

When Holly had been in medical isolation, years back, she thought of Gail's hugs as a safe harbor, as home and wonderful. Having the hugs now brought more tears, tears she couldn't stop. "I'm sorry," gasped Holly, turning and burying her face in Gail's shoulder. "I just can't..."

"I know," whispered Gail, stroking her hair. "Sweetheart, I know."

Shaking, Holly gave up and let Gail rock her gently until she wore herself out, but the tears kept flowing. "I don't know why," she breathed, clutching the fabric of the shirt. "I don't know why I can't stop crying."

Gail's exhale was shaky. "Because you're overwhelmed?" She pressed her cheek against Holly's head. "It's been a lot for a long time, Holly. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to be gone. All I wanted was to come home."

"You had to do your job," sniffed Holly. "I know. I'm not mad." She rubbed under her glasses, drying her face. "It's just so much right now."

The arms around her tightened for a moment. "I know," Gail whispered. "I know. I know. I can't make it better, Holly."

Holly shook her head. "You are, oh, Gail, you are. I just..." She really couldn't think of the words. Part of her had been filled with fear that Gail wouldn't come back in one piece. Maybe it was seeing Sue and remembering the anguish and nightmares of Gail in physical pain.

The dreams of what might have been had hovered over her heart then and they did again now. She'd forced it out of her mind then and now, keeping the picture of Gail in a wheelchair for life far away. Holly pushed away the idea of other, similarly grim, visions. But police officers were shot every day, they faced unimaginable dangers, and they vanished for weeks at a time to make things safer for total strangers.

She inhaled deeply, shakily, and let go of her death grip on Gail. "I know it's not fair, but I don't want you to go away like that again."

"I'll do my best not to have to." Gail kissed her forehead. "Come on. Let's try this whole sleeping together thing. I hear it's all the rage for married folks."

Holly sniffled deeply. "I need to wash my face," she muttered and went to do that. When she came back, the lights were off, save her bedside lamp. Holly slipped under the covers and turned off the light, stretching out.

Gail was right with her, snuggling up to touch her. "Love you," murmured Gail as she settled in with her head against Holly's shoulder.

"Love you," replied Holly.

The bed stopped feeling too big as she got used to the warmth beside her. The staggering, crushing, weight of future possibilities lifted as Gail's body grew heavier against her. The agony of loneliness began to fade as Gail's soft breath floated across her. It was a soothing balm.

At length, Gail was snoring. For the first night in weeks, it finally felt like things were going to be alright in the world.

* * *

 _This is the beginning of what ends with Lesbian Bed Death. A tough half year that started rough and ends happily, but it is a bit of Holly being a single mom in a worse situation than Gail. At least Gail knew where Holly was and could see and talk to her._


	13. Signs

**Chapter 13: Signs**

 **Type: Family / Drama**

 **Rating: M (mature subject matter - suicide)**

 _Warning: This chapter involves a background character's suicide. It impacts the Peck siblings, but if that's a trigger for you, I would skip this one._

 _How did the Pecks really learn sign language? Why did they? They gave one sort of answer, that there was someone in Steve's class, so he learned it, but why did Gail and why did they keep at it._

 _This is one of those stories that wraps around everything, flashbacks included, but its frame is that of Gail and Holly's 10th anniversary._

* * *

Everyone knew Gail hated being up front in public, but Steve had long noticed that Holly was the exception for just about every rule Gail had. From sports to public speaking, all it took was that goofy smile of the doctor's and Gail was a puddle. So there was no surprise to him when, after Holly wistfully remarked she hadn't heard Gail sing karaoke in a long time, his little sister slipped up to the stage and belted out Cobie Callet's "Brighter Than The Sun."

Generally, if you took a road trip with Gail and Holly, they played a lot of old-school lesbian music in the car. They did they same up at the cottage, having installed a decent amount of iPhone stereos in the place. But they also played a lot of happy music. Steve had seen Gail singing along with Sarah Bareillis' "I Choose You" when they threw a small party up there for one of Holly's birthdays.

When Gail sang to Holly, she could be so sweet it would break your heart into a million pieces. It was something he never expected his sister could do, or more to the point it was something he never thought she would ever do. Gail liked singing. She was good at it and she knew Holly loved hearing it and whatever made Holly happy was fair game. That was something normal from the generally snippy blonde.

It was a little surprising that Traci and Vivian scrambled up to be backup singers. He knew _his_ wife loved singing like that, but his niece had been pretty quiet for the last few years. Ever since Gail had gone missing on that stupid undercover assignment years ago, the girl turtled up. But then there she was, cheerful and bright, singing and dancing like anyone else, clapping with the song in the right moments.

In so many ways, watching Vivian was like watching his little sister all over again. Those moments when bitter and angry Gail gave way to the smiling woman who exuded happiness were some of the best in his life. He had missed it and, once Holly had made it clear she was not leaving Gail's life, he relished in having it back. Thank god they'd found each other and made it work. Thank god.

As the trio left the stage for Oliver to sing "Natural Woman," Steve caught a glimpse of Gail telling Vivian she was awesome. In sign language. He hadn't known the teenager learned, and from the looks of it she was better than he was. Not that it took much to be better than Steve at any language, but he knew Vivian hated French and actually flunked a class once.

The two signed faster than he could do, though not read. Vivian was teasing Gail about the hotel spa treatments, about how they were pre-paid, so she couldn't stay the whole time in the room having sex. In return, Gail was reminding her that Elaine was staying at their house to prevent any sneaky parties. Or boys. Or girls.

Sex had never been taboo in the Peck household. Bill Peck's incredibly frank explanation of it, of the consequences, had been educational if slightly embarrassing. His mother's sit-down talk about it had been weirdly less uncomfortable and more informative about the emotional aspects. But Elaine did understand it well, and she'd been very right.

Compared to Gail, Steve had always been close to their mother. Their shared secrets of the truth of the Pecks had bound them in a silent partnership. Their covert shielding, such as it was, of Gail kept them close. When he heard about the divorce it was from Uncle Al, not his mother. Steve had ranted about how his mother retiring didn't solve a thing. It made nothing better, and sure as hell wasn't an apology to trying to destroy careers. His virtual uncle looked at him with sad eyes and told him that he should have a little more compassion for his parents. That it was all a little more complicated than he thought.

So Steve had been quiet and listened and watched. His father looked different. Gaunter and withdrawn. Certainly Bill didn't talk to Steve, and that he understood. His father was racist and, apparently, homophobic. He understood the what, but the why and how escaped him. Why would a man hate his own children like that? How could you despise someone for something that was none of your damn business?

Yes, Gail was in love with a woman. Yes, Steve was in love with a black woman. How did any of that matter? Weren't you supposed to love your children? Weren't you supposed to want them to be happy?

That was something Gail had asked him once, innocently, when she was six and he was fourteen. He'd come to meet her at school, walking her home like he did every day until she went off to St. Clements. Then she took a bus. But there was that brief time when he was able to be the stereotypical big brother. He was holding her hand as they crossed the busy street and she asked him why his classmate Mona had been crying at his soccer game the week before. So he told her it was because Mona was being bullied because she was deaf, and Mona's mother had yelled at her, telling Mona it was her own fault.

Why didn't parents love their children and tell them that?

That was all she wanted to knew. Gail wanted to know why their own parents distanced themselves, pushed the siblings into a mold, forced them to be Pecks. And there was another person, a girl Steve's age, who had the same feelings. And there was Steve, who knew everything because he was a Peck and that's what Pecks did, and did nothing. And there was Gail, looking at him with shame in her eyes, hurt that her brother did nothing.

It was worse at the school, where his friend Colm led the class in bullying Mona. Steve had known Colm for years, from elementary on, and had never thought of him as a bully till now. They had started small, making fun of her voice and pronunciation. Then it evolved into stupid pranks like not making sure she knew the bell had rung. And then it got worse. Like grabbing her hearing aid. They were like fucking wolves. Idiots. And Steve thought about that look from Gail and he knew he had to change. He couldn't sit silent and ignore it.

So he sat down next to Mona the next morning and asked her to teach him sign language. She could hear, some what, but sign language was easier for her than speaking. At first she thought it was another prank from the class, but Steve's presence acted as a shield. No one messed with her as long as he was around and she started to lighten up, teach him sign language. It started with simple signs, a book, and lots of practice. After a week, he brought Gail over after school to meet her at the park, and the three of them practiced signing.

Gail inhaled it. She drank in the language and was able to use it with disturbing fluency within a month. Even Mona was shocked at the speed. When she tried to compliment Gail, tell her she was impressed, Gail's face tightened and closed off. That was a prelude to being berated by Pecks. Learning useless skills quickly was as bad as failing to learn the right skills.

But that day, to little Gail's surprise, the compliment was sincere. It took a while for Mona to convince Gail she wasn't making a joke, that she was honestly delighted. Gail had, eventually, blushed and looked away, signing a 'you're welcome.' From then on, Gail insisted on meeting with them as often as possible, learning more sign language. But it wasn't enough. The bullying at school got worse, and it was only a few months before Mona moved away to a different school.

Steve felt guilty. He had known about the bullying. He had known, more than anyone at the school, what it felt like to face the pressure of your parents insane expectations every single day. When his classmates harassed her, shoved her, made fun of her, he looked away and spent time with her, but he didn't defend her. It was a lesson he carried with him for years, fundamentally making him the empathic cop the Pecks had ultimately wanted.

Just thinking about Mona brought all the memories back. He remembered the day the school sat them down for a lecture about bullying, and how the student who had led the bullying was called out. Everyone finked on him, blamed Colm for coming up with things that was everyone's fault. And Steve closed his eyes and raised his hand and declared that if Colm was at fault then they all were, because they let it happen. And he was sorry.

No one came to their defense.

No one defended you when they too were wrong.

That was a lesson Gail learned herself years later, when a man died in the station and she stepped up to admit her own wrong doing.

Colm and Steve were suspended. Colm for two weeks, Steve only the rest of that week. Weirdly, he didn't get any punishment from his parents. Bill did the disappointed thing and Elaine just nodded at him once and said while he was home, his grades shouldn't slip. Gail, though... His little sister looked at him with wide, hero-worshiping eyes.

The story had a worse ending. The bullying of the class turned onto Colm. They terrorized him, blaming him for all the crap they got for not stopping him (encouraging him), and targeting him. Things got worse for Colm in high school. He and Steve and a few others went to UCC, and they told everyone that Colm was a bully. Steve was torn at the time. No one had harassed him since he fought back. No one had given him crap or ever considered telling their new classmates he was trouble.

Colm was ostracized. Alone. Not even Steve stood up and defended him. No, Steve buried himself in school and prep for the academy. If he wasn't in school he was still learning. He had to shoot, ride a horse, survive a night out in the woods, and a hundred other stupid Peck tasks. He somehow managed to forget about Colm needing a friend too.

At least, he did until the day Colm killed himself, their junior year of high school.

Of all people, Mona told him why without even knowing. He got a text out of nowhere saying that Colm had come by to apologize, and did he know why? Steve had been flummoxed and shown the text to Gail, who showed him the newspaper. Of course she had remembered the situation and recognized Colm's name in the paper. They put two and two together. Colm wanted to apologize before killing himself.

Both siblings went to the funeral. They didn't bring their parents, so it was 17 year old Steve and 9 year old Gail on their own, in black. They picked up Mona on the way and she and Gail spent the entire drive signing to each other. It had been three years and Gail had practiced relentlessly. She'd gotten good and Mona was delighted to have someone fluent to talk to.

That brief joy was shattered at the funeral itself. Something about going to see the funeral brought out the worst in Gail. Not the funeral itself but the people. They were all so fake, declared Gail, as she watched Steve's classmates cry about how they were going to miss Colm. They were the same people who had tormented him and made his life hell. They were the ones who ostracized him and rejected them, telling any new potential friends that he was a bully and drove a girl out of school once.

Steve would remember the look for a very long time when Gail asked why Steve hadn't tried to help Colm either. Disappointed. She frowned and muttered that her brother could be fake too, and it burned. It stung and dug at him for years. Mona had missed some of the conversation and when Gail turned away, grabbed her arm and demanded to know what was happening.

The signing became harsh and furious while the two girls argued. Mona came to Steve's defense, saying it was hard to stand up for someone else because you were afraid. And wasn't Colm proof of what happened? That all those people were demonstrating what happened to you when you did what they wanted and took the blame. They had to hate someone.

At nine, Gail didn't accept that very well. She'd been livid to know her brother was a coward and not spoken to him much for days. She didn't like the idea that people had to hate someone. So she did the most unusual thing every and asked her parents at dinner. Why did people hate?

Elaine and Bill had looked up, surprised. They hadn't expected the question, but Bill said that people hated what they didn't understand. Oh, how prophetic that statement was! Elaine said that because they hated and feared, that's why they were police. They wanted to make it safer.

That was the day Gail stopped fighting quite so hard against being Peck. She still dragged her feet and was generally misanthropic and truculent, but she stopped fighting. She got better at shooting, she got better at everything, and she closed herself off even more. It was then that Gail became a Peck.

With the retrospect of over thirty years in his pocket, Steve realized that some of what had drawn Gail in back then was she had a crush on Mona. Of course part was that she saw a familiar agony. But also that girl was a dark haired, tan, fit woman. Just like Gail's math teacher, a few years later. Just like that dancer that had made Gail blush violently in Las Vegas. Just like a certain very nerdy, smart, and socially awkward forensic pathologist.

What kind of idiot didn't read the signs? He knew his mother had known. She hadn't so much as turned a hair at Gail's pronouncement, taking it far worse that Gail had chopped off all her hair. When he reflected back on the dinner where Elaine had suggested finding Gail a nice young man, he realized he knew that tone. Elaine was pushing Gail just enough to get her to say what she really felt.

Boy, how screwed up was their family? They didn't start saying anything straight out until they all lost everything that they loved and fought to get it back. Gail and Holly, him and Traci, their mother for both of them. Bill... Well. Their father never learned.

He missed his father sometimes. He missed the dad who taught him how to swim and fish and ride a bike. The dad who drove him to work every day that first year he also missed just a bit. But he didn't really miss Bill Peck, because he couldn't find it in himself to miss someone who didn't want to know Traci or Leo or Holly or Vivian. Maybe he could understand not wanting to know Duncan (whom Gail still called Gerald), but his mother was pretty cool.

If the trade had to be his father for his sister and her cadre of friends, including his own beautiful wife, he'd take them any day. He couldn't give up Traci, first of all, especially not that she was finishing up singing a blues song with Gail right now. Amusingly, Gail was better than any Peck at singing. Even Steve hadn't known that parlor trick of his sister's until she was an adult, and it wasn't one he shared.

They weren't all that alike in all things. For example, Gail sucked at drawing. Steve briefly toyed with the idea of being a sketch artist, though the Pecks had shot that idea down. Another useless skill of his. Steve also was an excellent ballroom dancer and sailor. Gail, at best, managed the rowboats and canoes around the lake by the cottage. She was, of course, better at horses and cars. He could mix drinks and had better woods skills (which was to say, he had any).

Steve glanced over at Holly, who according to Gail sang like four tone deaf cats. She was watching the little stage with rapt amusement and delight, but also a great amount of adoration. Holly only had eyes for Gail. Her lips were curved in that smile she wore a little to the side, the smile he'd seen her shoot at Gail more than once that never failed to make his baby sister fold and go along with what Holly wanted.

But this time, this smile was almost abashed. Holly shook her head and Steve eyed the stage. Gail was holding out a hand as she sang, gesturing to- no, she was beckoning Holly, urging her wife to come up on stage. The non-singer shook her head, laughing, but Vivian and Lily were pushing her up and out of her seat, into Gail's grasp. Holly laughed more, insisting she shouldn't sing, and Gail still held the mic out when it was appropriate.

And they sang. It was just a classic Melissa Etheridge song, but they sang and laughed as they sang. Gail took a moment to tease Holly, telling her she really was awful at singing, but still they sang and laughed and joked. His own wife, free from singing, came back and sat on his lap. Winding his arms around her, Steve smiled and held Traci close. She joked about how Gail was going to become the goofy Peck if he didn't watch out.

He had so missed that Gail. The fun, silly, sometimes dorky Gail who liked things that were weird and didn't mind being looked at. He had gotten used to having this Gail back. He loved having this Gail around again. Even when she was a hard ass and cracked down on OC, wielding her rule as head of Major Crimes like a bazooka, she was still the goofy little sister he loved. He didn't even care that she was promoted over him. He was a good cop, but against all odds, Gail was great.

A peanut hit the side of his face. Steve turned and saw his sister signing at him, asking what was wrong. He smiled and signed back that the doves were singing.

Gail blinked and grinned at him before turning away to say something to Nick. For the life of him, he couldn't remember what he was trying to sign that night. Was he just trying to cheer her up? That sounded right. It had always been so hard, making Gail smile. It was hard now. She never smiled when it wasn't a calculated moment.

Except. There was Gail, smiling broadly, laughing deeply. She had her hands on Holly's waist, tugging her close as Holly held a small box far away from Gail, laughing even louder. The box was tossed to Vivian who scampered behind the safety of Lily, who in turn hid behind Brian, who hid behind Elaine. Eventually Gail got her hands on it, but only when Holly convinced her to sit down.

Steve knew what the gift was. While Gail swore nothing would beat the car from their second anniversary, the tenth was their diamond anniversary and Holly had asked Steve and Elaine for help. They all knew Gail liked shiny things, so the gift of a matching earring and bracelet set was not going to go amiss. Steve knew what Gail was getting Holly (a diamond pendant in the form of a DNA chain) so he just made sure Holly's matched.

While he helped Holly pick it out, he thanked her for sticking with Gail. Holly had laughed brightly. She didn't see it as a difficult thing to stand by Gail through it all. She found the dark humor charming, the hatred of humanity endearing, and the cynicism ... Well Holly was slowly working on that. She didn't hate it, but she wasn't the highest fan of Gail when she was at her worst.

But for Steve, he wanted Holly to know how much he appreciated her. Because through Holly, he got a sister back. And because he got Gail back, he got his mother back. True, they never got their father back, but Elaine was a part of his life. She even helped baby sitting the too-old for a sitter Leo and helping when detective parents were swamped with cases. Leo had moved out the year before, taking over Bill's apartment in a strange _Three's Company_ situation with Winnie and Sophie. While Elaine had given up on her career aspirations, she didn't give up on herself. She found herself.

Right now she found herself playing keep-away with Brian, Holly's father, while Holly pouted about her present being tossed about. He hadn't known his mother to be athletic in that way. For many years, Gail and Elaine shared a remarkable talent for ineptitude with sports. Of course Gail's attempt to catch the present bounced it high and Vivian caught the box, laughing and laughing.

Ever since Gail had gone missing years ago, on a case that had made her career in so many ways, including a promotion to Inspector, Vivian had reverted a little. When Steve pressed, Gail speculated that it was fear and the realization that even Gail and Holly couldn't protect her from all things. She was still a fun, nice, smart, kid, but she stopped opening up or even talking about her own past.

Much like Gail, though, Vivian was bolder and less taciturn when she was around Holly.

Ergo, Holly was magic.

He smiled as Holly finally got her present and was suitably delighted about it. She flipped her hair out of the way and had a wry, cute, smile as Gail looped it around her neck. There was a tenderness he didn't see much, had never seen much, in Gail before this. And similarly there was a gentleness in Holly, who could be a bit brash and opinionated from time to time, around Gail.

Holly beamed, showing Vivian the necklace and being informed it was cool. For a mom. Gail shoved Vivian's shoulder, laughing.

His sister was a mother. He'd seen her through a few, very temporary, fostering moments, and worried about how that would tear at her heart. They used to call Gail the Ice Queen of Fifteen, not giving thought to how she felt and how fragile she really was. When he'd been a rookie, he was called the Prince of Wales. God, he'd hated that nickname. Oliver promptly took him under his wing and called him Keystone Peck, and that was that.

But Steve was always tougher than Gail and not just because he had some years on her. He was the one who didn't feel the pain closely like she did, though he didn't know why. So when she and Holly mentioned they were going to help foster kids, he immediately worried about that pain. The agony Gail didn't really deal well with was going to cut her to the bone with those kids.

It did.

The first two had been brief, by intent. They'd known from the start that they were temporary parents for the kids. There was one, though, who'd tugged at their hearts only to be taken in by her grandparents. And that kid, that one kid gave them second thoughts about the whole thing. Because it had hurt and it had been hard to watch them all go.

And then came Vivian. The day he'd met her, she'd narrowed her eyes and said hello, but not gotten closer than across the table. Gail assured him that was normal and explained to Vivian he was her brother. The girl looked between then, said that was alright, and promptly did a strange thing where she ignored him while watching him. The child had suffered something and did not trust men.

Of course he knew what had happened to her, but like knowing what happened to Gail, it was vastly different seeing someone than reading about it. What had been theoretical was now practical. And Vivian clearly was in some pain.

As the days with the girl grew into weeks and then a month, Steve saw something surprisingly different than he had with anyone else. Gail and Holly had shifted from being adults who cared for a hurt child to adults who constantly worried about her and now to adults who were parents. They jokingly said they were fake parents, but Traci said that they were really, truly, caring parents.

It would kill them to lose her. They were beyond emotionally invested. There was just something that clicked with her and them, something that suited the trio as a family. It only got stronger when Holly landed in medical isolation. Suddenly Gail and Vivian connected. They started to talk about things, about their feelings, and it was clear Vivian honestly liked Gail and missed Holly.

The day Gail took Holly up to the cottage for a vacation, Oliver told him about the adoption papers and how the grandparents were angling for custody. He and Oliver hatched a plan. It didn't take much Peck work to dredge up information that would help them. Child abuse. They'd beaten their son. The same son who'd turned around and shot his family and himself. That alone would get them punted. But then Oliver got _everyone_ to write a letter to the judge, explaining why Gail and Holly would be good parents.

Now it was seven years later. Now they were ten years married. Now his sister was singing that song she loved, saying she could live by the light in Holly's eyes. Now his sister-in-law was hugging their daughter, both with eyes wet and bright and laughing. Now he was married for eight years. Now he had a step-son whom he adored and would to anything for. Now they had their mother as a mother and not a figurehead.

Maybe they should have seen all the signs coming, the hints that they could have been more than just a pair of Pecks. Maybe they could have done things differently, not shot themselves in the foot and not self-sabotaged so much. Maybe... Maybe.

But then would they have been strong enough to make the right choices when the right times came? Elaine once said the only good thing she'd done in the raising of them was help them be strong enough. When he looked at how they'd broken away from the Peck mold, how they'd become their own people, he should have seen it all coming.

And none of that mattered.

Now they did, finally, all of them, get it right.

He waited for his sister to have a free moment, free of all the other well wishers and family, except for Holly. And he draped his arms around the two, hugging them close even as Gail protested.

What he wanted to say was how much he was happy. Both happy for them and happy to be with them. He wanted to make sure Gail would always know and believe he was there beside her, that he'd always have her back in all things. He wanted Holly to know she was his family, and how much more that meant than just what a Peck might say. He'd go to the line for her, both of them, all three of them.

But the words didn't come. There was no way to say all of that. He looked up at Vivian, holding her phone up to take a picture and he smiled. He could only say one thing.

"I love you guys."

* * *

 _I don't know why Steve's chapters are sans dialogue until that last line, but they are._


	14. A Boy In A Dress

**Chapter 14: A Boy In A Dress**

 **Type: Drama / Family**

 **Rating: M (for mature subject matters - gay bashing)**

 _Vivian's childhood friend, Matty, is being bullied at school for being pretty gay. This touches back on the bullying in "Signs" but obviously it's not up to Steve this time._

 _Timeframe is the spring when Vivian is 16 and Holly will be fifty soon. I'm having a heart attack. Don't mind me. This is the spring before "Lonely Spinster" as well.  
_

* * *

"And, get this, the witness tells me that the chef yelled 'Behind! Knife!' And then he stabbed the guy four times." Gail was near tears as she told the story at the table, and Holly wasn't much better.

Vivian blinked. "I don't get it."

Wiping the tears off her face, Gail smiled. "You know how the chefs always shout 'behind' when they run around on those cooking shows?" When Vivian nodded, Gail gestured with her hands. "That's why it's funny."

It took a second but Vivian realized the part her mother found hilarious was the warning. Gail's humor was so very weird, but Vivian grinned. "Did the guy die?"

"Nah, four stab wounds at a five star restaurant, and not a single vital organ nicked."

At the other side of the table, Holly was dismissive. "Clearly not a butcher."

There was a pause before all three broke into laughter. "Mom, are you really in 'major' crimes?" Vivian smirked, knowing her mom was often frustrated at having to explain what her job really was.

"Shut up, junior," laughed Gail. "You don't have to come to Rome."

Vivian stared at her mothers. "We're going to Rome?"

Holly looked equally confused and surprised. "Rome?"

"We are going to spend three weeks in Italy this summer," smiled Gail. "I found a perfect villa like you asked."

Holly looked stunned. "Gail, I was _joking_. When did this happen?"

Going back to cutting her beef, Gail shrugged. "This afternoon. Uncle Eli pointed out we have some family crap out there and I could use it. So. Happy birthday."

Even Vivian knew one of Holly's dreams had been to go to Rome. She'd loved the architecture for years and lusted after some of the food. "Gail..." Holly's voice was the soft tone that she used to just tell a person how much she loved them. She was really good at that voice.

"You're welcome." Gail grinned. "We're going to Madrid for my 45, before the monkey runs away."

Holly shook her head and leaned over to kiss Gail softly. "Thank you, honey."

Still grinning, Gail whispered something softly and they kissed again. "So. Viv. Sophomore year's almost over. What are you going to do all summer?"

"Besides summer classes, I'm working for Elaine at the CF fundraiser. She needs a minion to drive around and deliver stuff."

Still looking far too smitten, Holly asked, "And how are you getting around?"

"Ah, here is my genius, Mom. Uncle Steve is selling me his crapmobile."

Both her mothers paused and stared at her. "You aren't raiding your savings," said Gail, flatly.

Vivian hesitated and explained. "Nope, I'm using the money from the other thing."

"What other-" Holly cut herself off. "Ah." She looked down at her plate. "Well. We did say that was yours to do what you wanted."

There was a tinge of disappointment in Holly's voice. When Vivian's biological grandparents had died the year before, Vivian had both mothers at her side when they handled the affairs. Gail had insisted they collect any and all memorabilia. Even if Vivian didn't want it now, she may one day wonder where she came from and what it meant to be a part of that other family. She might want to look in a mirror and see her history and not just the life they'd made. It was, Vivian had to admit, surprisingly thoughtful for Gail.

So she'd agreed to keep all the photos, all the bronzed baby boots, and everything that seemed family. But they'd sold everything else. That included the piece of crap car, the house, and the furniture. What they didn't sell, they donated. Even the furniture Holly kind of liked. Holly's SUV was filled with three boxes and nothing more, and they'd had her grandparents buried by her parents and sister.

That part had been weird and, Vivian would admit, traumatic. She couldn't remember seeing Kimmy's grave before. Seeing the name, Kimberly Anne Greene, on a stone, and seeing someone had thought to put 'Taken Too Soon' on it, broke her into sobs. Gail, far more used to graveyards than she probably should be, was the shoulder to cry on at first. Gail held her while she found herself unable to do anything but cry, shaking in her mom's arms. And it was Gail who led her back to the car, sitting in back seat with her and letting Holly drive them to the hotel.

When Vivian woke up from a nightmare that night in the hotel, feeling wrung out and scared, it was Holly who came out and sat up with her, rocking her and telling her she was loved. Holly held her close and promised they were there for her, letting her sleep on the couch with her head in Holly's lap. The comforting feeling of Holly stroking her hair let her finally fall asleep and stay asleep.

Thank god for them.

The house ended up selling for profit, enough to pay for the funeral costs, simple gravestones, and the left over went into Vivian's savings account for her to do what she wanted. Holly had mused it would be nice to use it for school or save it for when she moved out. But Vivian had two plans. A car and a backpacking trip after High School. Today was not the day to spring that other plan. She wasn't sure about it herself, to be honest.

"Holly, I used my trust fund to buy the Kia," Gail said pointedly.

"Was that the car that blew up?" Vivian had seen photos when she met Sue Tran for the first time. Sue was incredibly cool and had been flattered when ten year old Vivian was enamored with her job.

Holly grimaced. "That's not the same thing, Gail."

"It's her money." Gail pointed at Vivian with her fork. "We raised you to be incredibly responsible and adult, Monkey. I'm fine with you buying a car. But just so you know, Steve's a shitty driver."

"Traci warned me," grinned Vivian. "It's at the shop you guys use."

Gail waved a hand and smiled. That was her way to say that it was proving Vivian was responsible. And since Gail was fine with it, and had pretty much handed Holly a dream for her upcoming birthday, that was the end of it.

After dinner, they fell into their normal routines. When Vivian had been much younger, they played board games and Star Wars and her moms put up with just about anything. Every night after eight, Vivian was in her room and her mothers sat on the couch, or in the sun room, or on the deck and had a moment of quiet time together. More than once she'd caught them in some stage of in flagrante delicto.

But now she was old enough that if she'd asked, they'd be fine with her heading off to hang out with her friends. She didn't have a set bed time or even a 'be home by...' time anymore. She didn't even get pestered about homework. She was trusted to be responsible. Which meant after dinner, sometimes her mothers asked if she wanted to do anything, but sometimes like tonight they said they were going to sit out on the deck.

Gail had her tablet and rolled her eyes, telling Vivian that it was sports season. Holly swatted Gail's arm but already had the hockey game playing on her own tablet. She watched her mothers just long enough to see them settle on the swing, Gail's head resting on Holly's thigh, reading, while Holly watched her game and ran her fingers through Gail's short hair. Gail's hair was brown right now, as a part of some case Vivian hadn't been fully told about.

Knowing her parents weren't paying attention, Vivian carefully took a photo with her phone and sent it to Elaine and Lily. Her grandmothers always appreciated seeing those moments. Lily had a framed photo of six year old Vivian sleeping on the bed with Holly and Gail up at the cottage. It was from when Holly had been stuck in isolation and turned out to just have meningitis, but they'd all been so tired there had been an impromptu group nap.

It was a cute photo, Vivian had to admit. One of the first where they looked like a family unit. Now they had hundreds of moments, from Vivian's first sports games to the day Gail got her stupid medal for saving the Prince of Wales, and even when Holly was publicly awarded a civilian service medal for her work which she swore was Gail's cruel joke but Gail had denied for years. After digging around, Vivian determined it had been Holly's boss, Tony, who had done it, but she let the mystery remain.

Family.

Vivian had no real plans that night. It was the middle of the week after all, and getting near the slog of the last bit of school for the year. And it wasn't like she had a lot of friends. Next year, junior year. Then senior. Then ... College and what was next. But this year was the easy year, school wise.

Leaving her parents alone, giving them some privacy, Vivian sprawled on the couch and spun up the latest massive game she had been playing. While babysitting little Chris for Dov and Chloe, she'd been told she could play any video game when the kid was asleep. That was how Vivian found Dragon Age IV and Skyrim Legacy. They were all games that Gail had no patience for but Vivian found she adored. The endless story opportunities were enthralling to her.

It was nice to get lost in the make believe world for a while, to be Alrick Son of Thorg, or Captain Shepherd (who could be any gender), or Wild Jill the gunslinger, or anyone else. She liked her life, but made up people were fun to run around for a while. "FemShep again?" Holly's somewhat weary voice surprised her.

"I like killing aliens," noted Vivian and she glanced up. Just Holly.

"Gail got called about the case. I think her killer chef is trying to cook up a deal."

Vivian winced. "Please, don't. The dad jokes are not your forté, Mom."

Her mother laughed softly. "Goodnight, honey." She patted Vivian's shoulder and went upstairs. Gail was probably either on the deck still or she'd locked herself in the office.

Weirdly, her next interruption was her phone. Vivian frowned at the time and the name. She had two good friends, Matty and Liv. Neither tended to call after nine. "Matty?"

"Hey. Um. Hi."

She turned the game off. "Matt," she said firmly. "What happened?"

"You haven't been on Facebook?"

"I hate Facebook, you know that. Hang on." Vivian turned off the TV and checked the deck. No Gail. "I gotta turn off the lights. What did the idiots do this time?"

Matty had been dealing with some bullying, off and on, at school for being gay. Not that he necessarily was. Kids could be assholes. All they cared was that he seemed like he might be gay. It didn't matter that Matty hadn't said anything, one way or the other. Even if Vivian was damn sure he was gay, it was his own damn business and not theirs. Part of why she didn't have a lot of friends was that she stuck up for Matt all the time.

"Photoshop. But my Mom saw it before I could get it down."

Vivian winced and trotted upstairs, firing up her laptop. There in her email was the photo. "Crap. Did she say anything?"

"Yeah. She asked what it was and I told her it was a joke and... She got that way." Matt exhaled shakily. His mother was nuts. There wasn't another way around it. She was over controlling, homophobic, and Vivian was pretty sure abusive. At least emotionally.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just... Viv. You know, right?"

She hesitated. "Yes, Matt. I know."

"Okay."

"You don't have to say anything, Matty. But if you need anything, you know Gail's got a gun."

It was an old joke. Matty had been stunned to see Gail wearing a gun when she picked up Vivian, back in their elementary school days. He laughed. "I know. Your moms are pretty cool."

"They like you, Matty. Anything. Okay? Even a place to crash."

"Thanks. I just ... Wanted ... I wanted to know I had a friend."

"Well. You do, you idiot."

They hung up and Vivian stared at the photo on her monitor. It was a pretty good photoshop of Matt in a dress. His head was pasted onto some actress' body. She sighed and saved the image, along with all the information she could find, to a folder on her laptop. Since the second photo, of Matt's head on a male porn star's body, giving some guy a blow job, she'd been saving all the evidence. IP addresses, photos with meta data, copies of voice mails and emails, everything.

It was a problem.

It was getting near the point where she should ask her parents for help.

When did you know it had to be something for adults?

Everyone always said to get help when you were bullied, to tell adults, but they never told you when that moment was. And confusingly, they always talked about how there had been bullying when they were kids. But with the Internet, the anonymity factor made it so much worse. When they'd been in junior high, the kids wrote horrible things about Matt on his locker, in sharpie, until an anonymous tip to the principal got them caught in the act. The perpetrators claimed it was just in fun and ended up getting suspended only for vandalism. Sadly, a new school meant that shit started up again.

Vivian groaned, closed her laptop and rubbed her face.

The rap of knuckles on her doorframe startled her. "Hey." Gail was actually more dressed for the day than she'd been before. "Sorry, I didn't mean to spook you."

Shaking her head, Vivian took in her mother's clothes. "You have to go in?"

"Yeah, complications. We have a video and another witness and now ... Ugh." Gail shook her head, annoyed. "Are you okay?"

"Oh. Yeah, having an existential crisis. That's all."

Gail laughed softly. "Glad it's nothing major. I'll see you in the morning."

"Go catch bad guys, Mom," smiled Vivian, and she watched Gail head out.

Even with parents like hers, you didn't just turn and dump everything on them all the time. You had to stand up for yourself and do things yourself. It was what they taught you, right? Do the right things and be the right person and be the _good_ person. Be the person they raised you to be.

She closed her door and showered and went to bed. The problems of growing up weren't going to be solved in one night.

They also weren't solved a week later, when Vivian got her car. She picked up Liv and then Matty on the way to school, both of whom were delighted. She had what they all wanted and envied: freedom. Certainly fifteen year old Matty, who had skipped a grade just to stay with Liv and Viv, would be a long time to getting his car. And Liv, well, her parents were unlikely to afford one for her for some time. Even Sophie had never had her own car until moving out.

For a brief, shining moment, Vivian was the envy of much of her class. Then the bitchy girls got their own cars. It was probably her fault, getting the cars because the cop's kid did, but the cars brought a new vector. Now hardly a day went by where Matty wasn't egged or had other crap thrown at him.

"God they're assholes," snarled Liv, stomping back and forth in the girls' shower room.

"I get the impression they've always been like this, since the dawn of time," muttered Vivian.

"Am I going to get in trouble?" That was Matty, showering off what smelled like dog crap and fertilizer.

As one, Liv and Viv shouted, "No!"

His damp head popped around the corner, still covered in suds. "But it's the girls shower..."

"Yeah, and The IV girls can take any of the idiot girls." Liv slung an arm over Viv's shoulder. "Just not the boys without getting suspended."

"Again," noted Vivian. "Matt, I've got some clothes for you. Just put the others in the trash bag."

Matty nodded and went back to wash his hair. Again. "Thanks, Viv."

While Liv grumbled that Vivian always got the thanks, Viv sighed. This was too far. This was- this had to be where you stepped up and got an adult. She waited for the water to turn off. "We need to tell someone, Matt."

"No!" He jumped out, wearing a towel.

Both Vivian and Olivia turned around and yelped, "Pants!"

"Sorry, sorry," muttered Matt.

Vivian listened for the sound of a zipper before turning around. "Matt, they're escalating."

"God, you sound like they're serial killers." He pulled on the t-shirt and scowled. "Really? Where did you get these?"

"You left them at my place when we went shopping." Her first weekend trip with the car had been shopping with Liv and Matty last weekend.

"Yeah, cause I hate them."

"Normally people compliment others for their foresight," noted Vivian. She held out the shoes. "Gym shoes."

Matty stared at them. "Did you break into my locker?" When she didn't answer, he winced. "She snuck into the boys locker room and broke into my locker?"

Liv looked at her fingernails. "I wouldn't say she _snuck_ so much as she just walked in."

"That's something I'd expect from you, Liv."

"I stood guard. Come on, let's get before the next class."

Vivian shook her head and opened the door to the hallway. Grabbing Matty's hand, she tugged him out after her. They were spotted and there were a few hoots from classmates, but not a single person stopped them. "I wish you'd let me tell Moms," she muttered.

"If you do, they'll want to talk to my parents." Matty had a good reason to be morose about that. His parents had divorced when he was eleven. He'd wanted to move in with his father, but custody was given to his mother who didn't travel for work. So he and his jock brother lived with her.

"When's your dad home next?"

"End of the month." Matty stopped, dropping Vivian's hand. "No! You're not-"

"Try and stop me," she said sternly. She could have given him some big speech about how he was her best friend, about how she didn't care he was gay (which would be hypocritical considering her feelings at the moment), about how he wasn't alone and she would help him. But right now, Matty was a scared boy who was being bullied and didn't have support at home.

Of course Gail's daughter understood that.

And Holly's daughter understood picking up the broken pieces of a hurt friend and helping glue them back together.

Matt snarled. "No. No, damn it, no! Don't do this, Vivian! You're, like, my only friend."

"Liv would be crushed," she drawled.

"Please don't. I need you."

"Matty... That's _why_ I'm doing this."

He growled and stomped off the other way down the hall, nearly plowing into Olivia. "What'd you do, Viv?" Olivia held the tightly sealed bag of smelly clothes. "And what do I do with this?"

"Laundry. We can hit the one down the street at lunch." She grimaced and ran her hands through her hair.

"He doesn't want us to do anything, Viv. Maybe we should, y'know, respect that?"

Vivian nodded, but in her heart she shook her head. Maybe he didn't want it, but he certainly did need it. She grimaced again and took the bag. "Yeah, I know."

But she didn't like it. Not at all.

That night, at home, she resolved to ask around the subject. "Hey, Mom?"

Gail glanced over from the stove. "S'up, Monkey?"

"Didn't you have a case where a kid was bullied?"

Her mother snorted. "Far too many, kiddo." Then the blue eyes sharpened. "Everything okay at school? You're not getting shit from anyone for having two moms, are you?"

She smiled. "No, no, I'm fine. Just... One of the kids at school is getting picked on."

Gail sighed. "I want to say kids will be kids, but they can be real assholes. Wolves. How bad is it?"

"Pretty bad. They throw eggs and stuff. They used to write things on lockers. Y'know, graffiti."

"My locker regularly had 'bitch' scrawled on it," muttered Gail. "I know."

That was surprising. If either of her mothers had been bullied as a teenager, Vivian would have picked nerdy, socially awkward Holly. But then again, teenager Gail had not, according to Uncle Steve, had temper issues. She may have just taken it as expected and not kicked up a fuss. "Its like that," Vivian nodded. "And ... How do you know when you _have_ to get an adult? I mean, when is it too much before it's too late?"

Her mother paused. "That's hard, Viv," she muttered. "That's... You know, you can't always know until you see it be too late." Gail turned and leaned against the counter, looking weirdly sad. "Steve had a classmate who killed himself. He was bullied. I think I was nine or ten, and I remember being pissed that Steve didn't do anything."

"I'm _trying_ ," sighed Vivian. "I keep ... You know I get in the way. I stand up and... I keep trying to help."

"And you get pushed away? Yeah, that happens too, sweetheart." This was the point where Holly would hug her. Gail, not so much, and that was okay. "Keep trying. And if you think, if you even have an inkling that they're going to do something stupid, like hurt someone, you get me, okay?"

Vivian nodded. She was more worried that Matty would run away and they'd never see him again. That he'd become some rent boy, hustling himself on the street. "I will. I promise."

The fact that Matty was avoiding her didn't help much. He told her he wanted to take the bus, not ride with her, and he ate alone at lunch. He didn't sit by her or Liv in class. He looked ... Thinner. Vivian slowly, and then suddenly all at once, realized what Gail had said. This was when you worried that something was going to happen. This turning away, this folding in was when you saw someone distancing themselves and closing themselves away. Perhaps so the inevitable didn't hurt as much.

So she did what the right thing was and purposefully breezed into classes late so she could sit by Matty. She found him at lunch and sat nearby. But she didn't say anything. She just did it. She just let him know she was there and there for him. It didn't feel like much, certainly not enough, but any more and he'd push her away. She kept that up for just over a week before all things broke open.

It started simple and innocuous. She and Liv were on the track team, having a small meet with a nearby school. Her mothers only came to the large meets now, not the mostly internal ones to set rankings, and especially they didn't come if they knew Vivian would be having a late dinner out with her teammates. Vivian knew it was code for her moms enjoying an evening in a quiet house, which meant sex.

With that in mind, she was stalling and drawing out her tea even if Liv had gone home a half hour ago and she was stuck hanging out with a couple girls she barely liked. Viv tried to think of it as a good thing. Making more friends, or at least more acquaintances whom she didn't mind chilling with. Except she did. They were a little boring.

"You're bored," stated the team captain, Erin.

She coughed on her drink. "No, no I'm not."

Erin smirked. "Oh, sorry. _They're_ boring."

Now Vivian looked chagrined. "Okay. Maybe."

"I know. They're jocks. They're not known for deep thoughts and intellect."

"I thought runners were the smarter jocks."

"It's all relative," grinned Erin. "Compared to a football player, they're Einstein."

They both laughed softly. "I'll give you that."

"At least they run fast, though," her captain noted. "You know you're not half bad."

"My Mom- One of my moms is a runner." Holly was still quite a runner, and had been surprised when Vivian had asked to come along on a Sunday run when she'd been thirteen. Of course Gail, who hated running at all, complained it meant she'd never get a break. It wasn't fair to call Gail a runner, though. Holly and Vivian ran competitively. Uncle Dov told stories about how Gail was known for cutting off criminals rather than having to run after them.

Erin looked thoughtful. "I wonder if two moms is easier or harder than a mom and a dad."

"I think it matters who they are," offered Vivian. She'd often thought about that. Would things be different if Gail and Holly had been different genders? She didn't think so. They would have been the same no matter what. Gail had said that once.

"I've met them. Your moms. They came to the big meet last year. A doctor and a detective inspector. That's cool. My dad's an accountant and my mom works at a bank. Ultra boring."

Vivian sighed. "Some days boring sounds nice." She thought of Holly being sick and Gail going missing or being shot at, and all the little things they did that were dangerous.

"It must be so different than the rest of us."

What was she driving at. "I don't have anything else to compare it to. Do you think you're different?"

"Aren't we all? Normal is what everyone else is, and you are not."

Vivian crinkled her nose. "Star Trek?"

"Hah, I knew it. You're a secret nerd!"

Snorting, Vivian leaned back. "It's not a secret. I like the reboots."

They chatted about that, the difference between the rough and tumble reboots and the hopeful originals. Conversation flowed around books and movies until the others had left and the coach suggested they get going.

"Need a ride home?" Erin gestured.

Something about Erin's tone caught her by surprise. There was an odd implication. "No, thanks. I have a car actually."

"Already?" Erin whistled low. "And your moms aren't worried you're out all late?"

Vivian lifted her phone. "Hardly. They've got tracking."

The captain nodded and gave her an odd smile. "Right. See you Monday at practice." There was an awkward moment, a second where Erin looked like she was about to try and hug Vivian, but then she just clasped her shoulder and walked Vivian to her car.

As Vivian waved and drove off, she eyed the rear view mirror. "I think she was hitting on me," she muttered to herself. How did that make her feel? Both genders had flirted with her, off and on over the years. She had gone on one date, once, to a dance, which had ended terribly. Well. It didn't matter much. Though the smile from Erin certainly made her feel warmer inside than stupid Brandon had.

She checked the time and frowned. It was only just ten. That did not necessarily mean her mothers would be dressed and out of their room. It might be possible to sneak in and hide away in her room. She'd snuck into the house once before like that. Vivian sighed. If only she was normal, then she could just go crash at someone's house and spend the night.

Weirdly, her mothers would worry more if she stayed out.

Vivian's phone pinged as she turned towards her block.

 _R u up?_

It was Matty.

Vivian pulled over. The daughter of a cop did not text and drive.

 _Still out and about. Need an all night shake?_

There was no answer right away.

 _I don't know what 2 do_

He could start using punctuation and grammar in texts. She frowned. That was not a very nice thought.

 _How about I pick you up?_

Again the pause in reply was lengthy.

 _U r going to yell_

That wasn't comforting. Before she could reply, he texted that he was at the school. Vivian shot back an 'On my way!' and pulled the crapmobile around.

When she found him at the school, lurking by the gym in a black hoodie and filthy jeans, she did yell.

"Holy crap, Matt!" Leaving the car running, Vivian jumped out and grabbed him by the arms. Matt had been beaten. One eye was already swelling and he was clutching his stomach as if something was broken. Someone had rolled her friend and kicked him when he was down. "We're going to the ER-"

"No! God, no, please, then my Mom-"

"Fuck your mom, Matt! You need a doctor!" He looked at her imploringly out of his one good eye. God. He needed a doctor. He'd just check himself out AMA no matter what she did. Crap. What did you do now? "You're such a pain in the ass. Get in the damn car, Matt." She grabbed his backpack and threw it into the back.

He winced and limped with her, buckling in. "I didn't know what else to do," he whispered.

"You're going to be pissed at me. You're going to tell my moms."

Matt sighed. "Do I have to?" He grimaced.

"It's my moms getting the whole story or I take you to St. Pats and tell them you tried to kill yourself by throwing yourself into traffic."

He was silent for a long moment. "God, you're pushy."

She smiled thinly. "You're welcome."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"Shut up." She glanced at him and was pleased to see a tired, pained, smile. Pulling the car in, she grimaced as soon as they walked into the living room. Crap. Her moms of course were still upstairs. It was late. Maybe they were asleep. "Wait here," ordered Vivian, sticking Matt on a stool with a pair of ice packs.

"Are they asleep?"

"God I hope so," muttered Vivian and she rushed up the stairs. God. She leaned an ear to the door to her parents' room. Nope. They were still up. Vivian took a deep breath and knocked. "Mom," she said clearly and loudly. "I need you."

One of the things about her parents was they almost always understood when she called one of them mom. They knew which was meant when. Holly opened the door, a robe pulled around her, glasses a little off kilter, and her hair in disarray. "Honey? What's wrong?" Brown eyes looked her up and down.

Vivian shook her head. "I'm okay. Matty's downstairs and he needs the first aid kit."

All at once, Holly's eyes sharpened. "Go get some towels. And I think we have some clothes that might fit him in the guest room. Do you need Gail?"

"Mom should come too," nodded Vivian. "I'm sorry."

"Hey. No. Do not apologize. But... We're going to shower first." Holly had an apologetic grimace on her face.

Vivian nodded again and went to the linen closet, grabbing the crappiest towels that came to the beach and sports games and the batting cages. She also picked the clothes out, tossing them onto the guest bed, which got a fast change of sheets, and in the last second scooped up her laptop.

Still sitting in the kitchen, Matt held the ice pack to his face and ribs. "Viv, maybe it's nothing-"

She pointed at him. "Shut up. Take the hoodie off." When he didn't, she frowned. "Matt. I've seen boys with shirts off before." When Gail had drafted her friends to help with the backyard one summer, Nick and Dov had worked shirtless and been heckled by Gail. Not to mention boys were boys and liked to show off.

"It's not that. I don't think... Um. I think the blood dried. It's stuck."

Vivian put the bundle down on the table. "Blood?"

"It's not going to be the first time I've stitched someone up in my kitchen," muttered Holly. She had on sweatpants and a t-shirt, but was barefoot. Her dark hair was tied back in a wet tail. "What hurts the worst?"

Matty hesitated. "You don't want to know what happened?"

"Gail will want to hear that."

"Mom'll want to see," pointed out Vivian.

"Mom is right here," grumbled Gail, in jeans and a black shirt, her hair sticking up. She too was barefoot. "Matty, you look like shit."

"Kinda feel like it, Miss Gail."

Gail sat down on a stool. "Viv, this is what you were talking about before?" When she nodded, her mother sighed. "Let's start at the beginning. You're both going to tell me what's been going on, why it jumped from lockers to beating up kids, and who was doing this. And I'm going to take some photos."

"Yes, ma'am," muttered Matt.

"Let's start with getting him cleaned up, Gail," Holly said softly. "Matt, this is really stuck to your hair, honey. It's going to hurt a little. Vivian, hold the basin there." In the end, Holly simply cut the sweat shirt off him and gently damped his hair to get the hoodie off. He hissed as she looked at his head. "You do not, thankfully, need stitches."

"Should we take him to the ER?" Gail was perfunctory and calm.

"It's not medically needed... Maybe. Matt, can you get the shirt off? I want to see your ribs."

"Think so," he mumbled and, with a little help, managed to get the shirt off. He was already bruising.

Gail took a few photos with her phone, holding up a ruler to get measurements. "Boots. Anything broken?"

Shaking her head, Holly gently palpated the damage. "Doesn't look like. Matt, tell me if this hurts." She pressed and Matt hissed. "I'll take that as a yes. Not broken I think. You really should have an X-Ray though."

"They only got a couple kicks in, Miss Holly, before they heard the cops."

Everyone startled. "Cops? Who?" Gail was like a hunting dog and zeroed in on Vivian.

She held her hands up to her mom. "There weren't any when I showed up. Not even the rent a cops."

Matty looked sheepish and picked up his smart watch, tapping it. A siren bwooped and Nick's voice came out of his phone. "Hey, what are you kids doing?"

While Gail looked perplexed, Vivian broke out laughing. "That's from when we did the house for your anniversary, Moms. Nick pretended to bust us."

"There's an app, you can put anything you want to play on a key code. I have a bunch of them." He tapped another, a cow mooing, and Vivian giggled. He'd played that at a boring class once.

"The brilliance of jokes," smiled Gail. "That probably saved your neck, Matty."

Both Vivian and Matt sobered up. "Sorry," mumbled Matt.

Holly shook her head. "She's not kidding, kids. How'd you cut your head?"

"I don't know."

"Well. I think you'll be happier if you shower before I tape your ribs, Matt. Viv, did you find something for him to wear?"

Vivian nodded. "Sweats and stuff. And I made the guest bed."

"Right. Come on, Matt. Let's clean you up properly." She put a hand on his elbow and led him upstairs.

As Vivian got up, Gail cleared her throat. "Sit."

Vivian folded, head down. "Sorry, Mom."

But instead of demanding to know why she hadn't said anything earlier, Gail had her arms around Vivian and pulled her into one of those rare, wonderful, comforting hugs. "You are amazing, Viv," whispered Gail fiercely. "You are so much more brave than I was at your age."

Why did conversations with her mothers never quite go the way she thought. "I feel like I should have been with him and not flirting at a stupid diner," sighed Vivian, hugging her mother back.

Gail let go and looked at her at arm's length. "I'll ask you about that later. Now. Tell me what's going on with Matty. For real. And in detail."

She sighed. "I've been writing it up." Turning on her laptop, Vivian showed Gail all her notes. Everything. For as far back as she'd been able to remember. Including how she and Liv had tipped the school off to the vandalism. Gail read through it all slowly, looking at the notes, and asked Vivian to put it on their cloud drive. "Are you going to ... God, I was about to ask if you were taking it to the police."

Her mother smiled. "It's not my wheelhouse, sweetheart. John will know who to talk to over in juvenile cases."

John, Uncle John, aka Sgt. Simmons, was Gail's grumpy right hand man. When Griggs had to be replaced, Gail had talked John into sticking around as her man on the ground. He'd been one of Vivian's virtual uncles for years. He took her on the driving course and helped her get her driver's license. He also took her to the range now and then, whenever Gail or Elaine were too busy. John picked up all of Gail's fringe cases, saving the truly outré ones for her to enjoy from time to time. He would happily help her through this.

"There's another problem, Mom... His Mom."

Gail sighed. "She's always been a bitch. Don't worry, I've had enough black looks from his mother." Rubbing her forehead, Gail nodded. "I'll take care of it. You leave this to the adults now, okay, kiddo?"

And Vivian surprised herself. "No. I want to know. I want ... Mom I don't want to be... Aren't I a Peck too?"

Her mother looked interested and thoughtful. "You are," she said softly. "Alright. But you'll carry your load."

She had no idea what that meant, but nodded. "I will. Thank you."

"Good. Let's go up and bring fresh ice packs. Holly's probably dithering over what pain killers to give him."

Vivian collected three ice packs and her laptop, walking with Gail up to the bedrooms. "Should I have taken him to the ER?"

"Mmmm. Did we ever tell you about the time your Uncle Steve was in the kitchen with a knife in his back?"

"It was a scalpel," corrected Holly. "And we should have taken him right away."

Gail shrugged. "You know why we didn't."

"Yes, fine." Holly waved a hand. "Viv, go sit with him, honey."

Gail kissed Holly lightly. "I just need to get his statement. I'm not going in tonight. One night won't matter in this."

Making an unconvinced noise, Holly sat down in the window seat while Vivian helped Matty arrange the ice packs for maximum coverage. "Sorry," sighed Vivian to Matty.

"It's okay," he promised. "You were right." She tried not to smirk and sat, cross legged, on the bed. Matty took a deep breath and explained what had happened. He'd gone back to school to pick up his text books, forgotten in his rush to get out since Liv and Viv weren't around. While he was there, he saw his locker was vandalized again and figured he may as well clean it off right away.

That was when someone shoved him into the lockers. Hard. He didn't look then, he just ran. It was bad luck he ran right into two of the bigger bullies. Matty named them and hesitated when Gail just nodded. The fact that she wasn't taking notes seemed to creep Matty out a little, so Vivian patted his knee and nodded. That worked and he went on, to tell how they punched him and shoved him. He squirmed free and made it outside, running to the gym, but he stumbled and fell, which was when they kicked him. He admitted he couldn't remember how he managed to get at his watch or how he remembered the code for the stupid Nick thing, but he did. They scattered and he lay there until he could call Vivian.

Gail calmly asked for the phone, which Matty unlocked and handed over. She looked at the time stamps and then asked if she could keep it.

"Yeah... I guess. But my Mom... She'll notice I'm not home in the morning."

"Hm. She will." Gail pulled her own phone out and tapped it. She waited impatiently while it rang. "Hi, Betsy? It's Gail, Vivian's Mom. Listen, my daughter backed up over Matthew's phone... They're here working on their science project ..." Catching on, Vivian quickly signed what they'd been studying in biology. "Beans... Don't ask me, I'm not the scientist. Anyway, I'll pay for the phone, but I wanted you to know he was here, and I was going to bed but since Gran Tourismo here's grounded, do you mind if Matt spends the night? We have a guest room." Gail closed her eyes and listened for a long moment. "I see. Well, I guess," she sounded a little annoyed but flashed an okay sign at the kids. "No, no, it's fine. He can stay for the weekend. Alright. Good night."

As Gail hung up, Matty blinked. "Holy crap. Viv, your mom's a bad ass."

It was Holly who groaned. "I will never hear the end of this."

"What'd I tell you, Stewart? Kids love me. Okay, I'm going to have someone get the logs off your phone in the morning, Matty. And we'll figure what to do. Get some sleep if you can."

The adults left them, Holly pausing to kiss the top of Vivian's head and whisper that she should let Matty rest. Gail held the door and almost absently placed a hand in the small of Holly's back, leaning in to talk quietly as they left.

"That's both awesome and creepy," noted Matty. "Are they always that... Romantic?"

Vivian blinked. "What?"

"Holly had a massive hickey."

"Oh." She hadn't noticed. She spent a lot of time trying not to notice that, frankly. "Matt, are you trying to ask how often my Moms get it on?"

"I'm trying not to ask that." Matt paused. "A lot?"

She chuckled. "A lot. Like, I was out of the house until ten so ..."

Matty covered his face. "You interrupted your parents having sex to get Holly to patch me up?"

They'd have been pissed otherwise, when Vivian reflected on it. "It's just sex, Matt. I think they're happier than I am that I have a car."

He shook his head and closed his eyes. "Everything hurts. I'm not equipped to think about this. And I don't think I can sleep."

"You want to borrow a book? Or watch something on the idiot box?"

Matty smiled without opening his eyes. "Your books are all smart. Even the brain candy ones."

That was true. "TV? We can binge that PBS show with the cute priest?"

"Tomorrow?"

Taking her cue, Vivian hopped off the bed. "Sure. My room's just down the hall. You can come in if you want."

"Okay." As Vivian got to the door, Matty added. "Viv? Thanks."

She smiled. "Next time, call me sooner." He laughed weakly and lay on the bed with the lights on. Vivian didn't press, seeing as she'd slept with a nightlight for years, and closed the door behind her.

The light in the office was on, so she poked her head in and saw Gail staring at her work laptop. "Go to bed, Monkey," said her mother, not looking up.

"You too, Mom. That bed sucks to sleep in alone, I've heard."

Gail glanced up and looked amused. "From the mouths of babes." She closed her laptop and got up. "He went to sleep?"

Waggling her hand, Vivian replied, "Lying with the light on is more like it."

"That sort of thing stays with you," sighed Gail. "Poor guy, and his mother's a piece of work."

Vivian sighed and bumped her shoulder against her mother. She knew what Gail was thinking about. Another kid without support at home. "Thank you," she said quietly. Gail didn't reply in words, just taking a gentle hold of the back of Vivian's head and pressing her cheek to her daughter's temple. It was a thanks for many thing. It was welcomed for many things. They both knew.

The morning rolled around with the smell of pancakes. Saturday mornings rarely started like that. Saturdays were to clean the house and then have a hearty breakfast and a walk. Vivian went by rote, rolling out of bed and stripping it, shoving her laundry into a basket and pulling on some clean clothes. She was halfway to the stairs before her brain realized that breakfast like that was because of Matty.

"Hey, Matty, you up?" She rapped on the door.

"Am I in heaven?" His voice sounded sore and tired.

"Wait till you try the pancakes. Come on down when you're ready." She ran through the rest of her regular chores in a rush. Her room was clean already and she'd sorted the video games a couple days before. All she really needed to do was dust, and maybe she'd get free of that too.

Holly met her at the foot of the stairs. "Toss it in the wash. We'll clean later." Her mother went up the stairs and Vivian heard a knock. Checking on Matty, no doubt. He looked far worse in the morning. His right eye was purple and swollen nearly shut, and he moved so stiffly it made Vivian cringe.

Breakfast was a mostly normal affair. Gail was impish, a little overly sugared and caffeinated, while Holly was softer, but just as biting when her humor cut in and she teased Gail. Every weekend was like this. Every weekend allowed Gail to let her hair down, as it were, and be the imp she really was. Every weekend saw Holly let go of the serious mien she wore as chief medical examiner and goof around.

It was a treasure to watch them caper. So many of her classmates parents had split. Matty's parents had been the first to go, divorcing when his little brother was four. Sometimes Vivian thought only her parents and Liv's had stayed together.

With a hint of jealousy in his voice, Matty asked, "Are they always like this?"

"Mostly," admitted Vivian. "Saturdays are family days. We started doing this every weekend when I was ten."

That had been after she'd conspired with Aunt Lisa to get her mothers some alone time up at the cottage. They'd figured out their balance properly after that, making time for each other and themselves. Her mothers were happy and content, a mature sort of easy love for each other that could make you hurt. They fought, of course, but they cared for each other. And they made sure Vivian knew she was adored.

"What am I supposed to do now?" Matty looked at the table sadly.

It was Holly who answered. "You'll stay here for a while. Vivian can go with you and pick up some clothes and your books, but you'll stay here until your father's back in town."

Ah. So that explained the computer work. Vivian smiled as Holly gave Matty another ice pack. "If you don't want her to see, I can go get your stuff on my own, Matty," offered Viv.

"No offense, Vivian, I don't want you poking around my shorts."

"Brant can help me."

Matty looked surprised. "Brant? Seriously? What blackmail do you have on my brother?"

"Good stuff," promised Vivian.

From the stove, Gail hooted. "That's my girl." She lifted her coffee in salute. "Matty, your dad called me this morning. He can't get out till Tuesday."

While Vivian knew Matty liked his father, he managed to look dejected. "Of course not," grumbled her friend. "I just got rolled by some assholes but he can't get out of France until Tuesday."

Gently, Holly said his name. "Matt. It's not that he doesn't want to be here right now."

"He's _never_ here," argued the boy. "Nothing's going to be better just because he's here for a few days."

Vivian looked over at Holly and then Gail beseechingly. So Holly tried again. "Matt, do you know what your dad does?"

"Computer shit."

"Your father's one of the few world experts in the technology that runs nuclear power plants." Holly sat down and took Matty's hand. "He's not traveling around because he doesn't want to be here. He's doing it because he's making the world safer for everyone. He's needed."

That sounded much like what her own mothers did, on a smaller scale, and Vivian looked over at Gail. "I get it. Everyone's more important than me," muttered Matt, pulling his hand away.

"I used to think that," said Gail, surprisingly. "My parents had very important jobs in the city my whole life. They always were doing that instead of being with me or my brother, and it hurt us a lot."

Matty looked up, surprised. "But I've met Mrs. Peck. She's nice. In an intense kind of way."

Gail smiled, tiredly. Sadly. "Now. Sure. My father died without us ever making peace, though. He never understood me, and I sure as hell didn't understand him." She sighed. "The thing is, Matty... Some of us have a drive. We have a need to be more and do more. We have skills the rest of the people don't. And we _have_ to be a part of something more." Gail looked at Holly. "And sometimes we're idiots and that gets between us and the people we love and should make time for. The people we desperately want. Like partners who leave us, or children who hate us. But. Sometimes we're really lucky and we have people who remind us that the world's not worth saving without them in it with you." Gail put her coffee down. "Your dad needed a reminder. That's all. He didn't realize."

The speech sounded familiar. Like something Elaine would have said. Across the table, Holly was smiling and her eyes were sparkling. Damp. So were Matty's. "But... How do you forget?"

"Oh. Matt, honey, it's surprisingly easy," sighed Holly. "There's so much going on, always all at once, and your brain does some odd things to compensate." She looked at Gail, apologetically.

Nodding, Gail walked over and rested a hand on Vivian's shoulder. "It's hard to forgive them. But I spent a long time being pissed off at my parents about it until my mom just _tried_ to be there for me. It hurt a lot. It still hurts. I'm still kind of mad about things, but ... I figured something out. I could keep being mad or I could try and forgive."

"How do you know which is right?" Matty's voice was thick and wet.

"Trust the one who tries." Gail shrugged and squeezed Vivian's shoulder. "I'm still amazed we haven't screwed you up, Monkey."

Vivian smiled up at her mother. "Mom." She didn't have to say more. They all had made it through the bad times, they had come back to a family. They would not screw up again, Gail and Holly swore, and they managed to hold to that.

After checking with Brant, Vivian went over on Sunday while their mom was in church to pick up some of Matty's things. Brant, for all he was a thick headed jock, did want to know that his big brother was okay. The kid was dense and normal but he wasn't an idiot. He had packed all of Matty's favorite clothes and all the books and everything important.

"He's not coming back here, is he?"

Vivian shook her head. "I doubt it."

The younger boy looked down. "I wish I could go with him. But Mom needs me."

He was ten. He was ten and he was shouldering the responsibility of a parent who needed someone. "Brant, you don't have to-"

"No, not like that. She needs to have me here to take care of. I'm easy. You know? Matty, he's smart and clever, and ... I don't care if he's gay. Just, Mom can't cope with that. She said it was his fault he got beat up, which is so, so stupid, but ... She can't deal with change."

That sounded a lot like what Gail said about her own father. "She's not your responsibility."

"No. But if I want maybe one day to see Mom and Matty talk, then I've gotta stay."

If Vivian was anyone else, she'd hug him. "I'll tell Matty you don't care if he's gay."

"Leave out the stuff about Mom?"

"Deal." She held out a fist and Brant tapped it.

He wasn't a bad kid. He confused Matty, who probably was feeling displaced anger about the jock kids who beat him up, but he did love his brother. So Vivian carried the words home that Brant said he loved Matty, and wanted him to call, along with the clothes.

When she got home, though, Matty was sitting on the swing in the back yard, alone. "Leave him be, Monkey," said Gail, draped over the couch and killing aliens. "He wants to think."

"He's going to be different, isn't he?"

"Yes." That was one of the awesome things about Gail. She wouldn't lie or avoid the point.

Vivian sighed and put the bags by the stairs and sat on the easy chair. It was Gail's favorite chair, but as she'd gotten older, Vivian took it over and left the couch to her moms. Speaking of... "Where's Mom?"

"Playing hockey with Cousin Shay, BitchTits, and Kate." Gail frowned. "You spinning up or what?"

With a grin, Vivian picked up the second controller and pulled up her super hero avatar to join Gail, defending the universe from scum. They didn't talk. They didn't need to. Gail knew that Vivian knew she was there. Vivian knew Gail knew she appreciated it. That was their thing. They could sit together, in comfortable silence, playing stupid games.

The backdoor creaked and Vivian glanced at Gail. Her mother signed 'no' without missing a beat in the game. Let Matty be, was the implication. He appeared a moment later and sat on the couch, closer to Vivian than Gail. "There's another controller," noted Gail absently.

"Are you guys as good at this as you are Mario Kart?"

Together, Vivian and Gail answered, "Yep!" They even both popped the P loudly, just like Holly hated.

"Damn, please tell me we're playing co-op." He picked up the controller and dialed in a character, Vivian offering suggestions while shooting down a tentacled alien.

They were all three still playing when Holly got home, though the game had switched to a one on one on one free for all, with Vivian and Matty teaming up. "Gail," she sighed. "Have you fed the children?"

"They keep shooting me in the back!"

"Vivian, please stop shooting your mother. Matt, how's your head?"

"I'm okay, Miss Holly- Dr. Stewart..."

"You can call me Holly, honey. Are you kids hungry?"

All three, Gail included, replied, "Yes."

Holly rolled her eyes. "I'm turning off your game, Peck." But Gail had already tapped out and was getting up. "Are we eating in?"

"I'm all set up, just waiting for you." There was a quieter sound and her mother's went upstairs together.

"Wow, do they ever stop?"

Vivian didn't reply for a moment. "Sometimes people get distracted. They forget about important stuff, like making time for each other, Matty." She glanced over at her friend. "They did once."

He blinked, startled. "What?"

"When I was ten. It was ... I could see it. So everyone who says it's weird that Moms are always reminding each other they love each other, and me, can shut it." Years ago, she remembered thinking all the kissing was gross. Now. Now was different. "I don't ever want them to stop."

The boy exhaled a huh. "Everyone else's life looks so perfect from the outside, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. Yeah it does."

For her part, Vivian couldn't comprehend why Matty's mother wasn't there right now. It made no sense that she wasn't there to hug her son and tell him she loved him. Her mothers would do that. Her mothers would hold her while she cried. Her mothers would move the world to make her feel better.

Except... She remembered. Her birth mother. A mother who didn't do any of that. Did she not love Viv or Kimmy? Was that why she let their father ... Let them what? Vivian frowned trying to remember. There was something tickling her memory, something far faded and washed away by the years. She didn't remember her father ever hitting her or even touching her. That was odd. She certainly remembered the screaming and shouting. She remembered the sound of her father's hand on her mother.

Those stilted, confused, memories stuck with her that night and through the next two days. Matty skipped school, his doctor's note signed by Holly, but Vivian went to class. When she saw his locker, graffitied again, she sent Gail photos. When she sent the photos of 'fag lover' scrawled on her own locker, Vivian ended up sitting with the principal and her very angry mother, who informed them there would be a police inquiry.

Apparently they'd seen Vivian's car. It terrified her to realize that, had she not picked him up, Matty might have been beaten more. It worried to that they wanted to exact revenge on her as well. But Vivian was protected. She was safe. Relatively.

Gail laid it on the line for the school. They cleaned up, or they found out exactly how powerful the name 'Peck' was in Toronto, and how far Gail would go for the kids. "I want those kids' names. All of them. This has gone beyond just kids being kids. You deal with this, or you find a new job."

The principal blustered. "Is that a threat Mrs. Peck?"

"That's a promise," Gail said thinly. "Vivian?"

Getting up, Vivian noted, "It's Detective Inspector Peck, by the way."

Her mother said only one word as she walked down the hall. "Locker." So Vivian led her mother to her locker. Gail sighed at it, taking a photo and typing into her phone.

A few students took notice and some looked guilty. But one walked right up. It was a bespectacled nerdy girl from Vivian's English class. Ashley? "Excuse me. You're Vivian's other mom? The police officer?"

Gail arched her eyebrows. "I am. Detective Gail Peck."

"Can I make a statement? I saw who wrote on Vivian's locker."

That was not expected, based on the twitch of Gail's eyebrows. "What's your name?"

"Ashley. Ashley Harris."

Nodding, Gail looked at Vivian. "Go home, Viv. You okay to get to the car on your own?"

Vivian nodded. "Only a total idiot would screw with me while my cop mom's on campus."

Her mother quirked a smile and jerked her chin, dismissing Vivian from the conversation. There would, likely, be some students expelled. There may be some teachers fired. Gail would probably have the principal's liver fried up for dinner. She made it to her car without issue, and got home safely before texting Holly to warn her that Gail was on the warpath. Holly just asked her to please check on Matt since she was home. Sometimes you got used to things about your family.

Both kids stayed home Tuesday. Even if Vivian hadn't been asked by Holly to please stay away from the school for a bit, she would have just to keep Matty company. He was a mess. He didn't want to talk, but he fidgeted and fretted like an old maid. Gail showed back up at lunch time and sat them both down.

"That shit is over," she said flatly. "Olivia made sure the school knew I was in Major Crimes, and those morons confessed. Fucking pack of wolves, turned on themselves and ratted everyone out. Do you want to press charges?"

Matty's eyes widened. "Ch-charges?"

"Assault. They beat the fuck out of you, Matt."

He swallowed. "Shouldn't I have a lawyer?"

"Thats the other thing... " Gail sighed. "You either need a parent or a legal guardian, Matt... And I don't know what you want." Her friend dropped his eyes to the table. And then Gail said something surprising. "Matt... Are you afraid of your dad?"

It was a tone Vivian had heard from Gail a few times before. Everyone always thought Gail was the ice queen, that she wasn't comforting or understanding. But Gail understood fear and pain amazingly well, and never failed to be the arm who held Vivian up when she needed it. And right now, Gail was doing that for Matty. She lowered the wall, making it okay to talk about things that otherwise you didn't mention.

"No," he replied softly. "I mean... Not like ... I don't think he'd hurt me."

"There's a lot of different kinds of hurt," Gail said gently. "If you don't want to deal with your parents, you don't have to."

Matty looked up, shocked. "What?"

"If you don't feel safe with them, like you're going to be okay and safe and cared for, you don't have to talk to them. If you don't feel safe at that school, you don't have to go back. You can stay here, or I can help you find a family to stay with, or if you want to be an emancipated then I'll help you. But I'm not going to make you do anything you don't feel comfortable doing."

Just like that, Vivian realized her mothers would rearrange their whole life for this boy, this young man they'd known slightly less long than Vivian. Because her mothers cared about people. Her mothers saw a soul in pain and wanted to help. Vivian was pretty sure she'd never loved her mothers more than in that instant.

Swallowing, Matty looked back down. "It's not safe. I just... He's never here. What happens if he leaves? What happens _when_ he leaves again?"

Gail sighed. "I can't promise he won't, Matt. I can't promise Viv I won't vanish again for a month, or that Holly or I won't get hurt at work. I can't promise your mom will ever get a clue. But your dad, Zack loves you, Matt. He's going to screw up and he's going to hurt you, but he loves you and he wants to be here."

"He's got a fucked up way of showing it."

"Parents fuck things up, too, Matt."

"What if I don't want them?"

"Well. Then you stay here for now until we figure out what's best. I'll call Zack and tell him to meet me at the station."

Matty groaned and put his head on the table. "I'm really pissed off," he said thickly, as if he was crying. "They're my _parents_! Aren't they supposed to be here for me? Make sure shit like this doesn't happen?"

And Gail didn't disagree. "They should. They should have seen it before, they should have been there for you to talk to. But now you have to decide, Matt, and this is a big thing. A kid shouldn't have to, but you do."

His eyes wet and red, Matty asked, "What would you do?"

With a grimace, Gail admitted, "I made a _lot_ of epically bad choices, Matt. Most involved tequila. Some involved yelling at people I loved. But I'd listen to him for a start. Talk to him. Then decide."

After a little while, Matty nodded and went upstairs to shower and change.

Vivian looked after him, curiously. "Mom... Why?" She gestured between herself and the table. "Why did you want me to hear that?"

"You know, kiddo, your grandmother wasn't always so nice. She really screwed up me and Steve. She wasn't there for us." Gail leaned back. "But one day, one day you and Matty are going to be grown ups. And in ten, fifteen years, you're going to look back at some of this shit and realize those people who are supposed to love you but ignore you? What they did is not actually anything to do with you. There was nothing you could do about it, and nothing would ever make up for it or make it better."

There was no way Gail was talking about her and Holly and their raising of Vivian. "How'd you know I was thinking about them? The Greens?" Vivian didn't want to call them her parents. She had parents. Two really amazing, awesome, annoying, Moms.

Gail gave her a dry look. "Detective."

"Oh." Looking back at the stairs, Vivian exhaled loudly. "Is it okay I'm mad at them?" She knew her therapist's answer, which was that it was normal to be angry, but what you did with the anger had to be constructive and not destructive.

"Yes," said Gail. "But you know that."

"Yeah, I do. It's just hard. I don't know what I want to feel in the long run."

"You know, though, it's easier for you than it will be for Matt." That was startling. "You don't get a choice about what to do, not really. I mean, you can still do what I did and be really angry for a real long time. I don't recommend it. Being angry all the time is really tiring and not real productive. It hurts you more than them, and doesn't make you a pleasant person to be around."

Vivian smiled a little. She'd heard stories from everyone about her mother being mean. "What's the other choice?"

With a sigh, Gail waved a hand. "You can cut them out and walk away or you can be angry for a very long time. That's about it." And since Vivian's parents were dead, there was little to walk away from except the memories.

"You did both." She didn't ask that as a question. She knew. And Gail always said not to ask if you knew.

"I did," confirmed Gail. "For a _long_ time I was mean and stupid and angry and then I met Holly. And I walked away." Unsure what to say, Vivian was quiet. "I just want him to be ready, to be open, for the other thing. See. Around the time you figure out its not about you, sometimes they come back. They apologize. I think if Elaine had tried to talk to me before I was ready, nothing would have changed. But by the time she did, I wasn't angry anymore. I was just sad and sorry." Gail tilted her head. "I'm really sorry you can't do that."

Vivian blinked a few times. Her birth parents were dead. Her paternal grandparents were dead. God knew what the hell was going on with her maternal grandparents, whom she'd never heard from. Even Holly admitted they didn't know anything other than a name and a request not to be involved. And there was poor Matty. With both parents alive and not exactly involved.

"I hate people," decided Vivian, morosely.

Of all things possible, Gail laughed. "Yeah. You're my kid alright."

That evening, Matty's father showed up and immediately asked his son if he was really okay. Then he demanded to know if Gail had arrested the assholes who did that and if he could sue the school. And then. Then he apologized to Matty over and over, sobbing to his son that he was so sorry. It confused the hell out of Matty, but somewhere in the midst of the hugs from his dad, the boy broke and sobbed too.

It was a long night with a lot of talking. Every time Vivian suggested she leave, Matty pleaded she stay. He wanted her there, so she stayed and listened to his father try to explain things. That he'd lost custody because of his job. That he should have listened more and fought more. That he was wrong, and he already told his boss he had to work from home because his son needed him.

Eventually they decided Matty would stay a few more nights, until his father could get at least a court stay on the custody issue. Or convince his ex-wife to cede custody. Gail promised all her measurable Peck help. Either way, Matty was going to try living with his dad.

"But... Dad. You should know. Before. Um. Before I move in." Matty twisted his hands around a few times. "I think I'm gay." His voice was barely a whisper.

Zack reached over and took Matty's hands. "I know."

Watching Matty's head snap up was nearly comical. "You knew? Why- why the hell didn't you say anything!?"

"It's not my thing to tell," his father replied, honestly surprised. "Matthew, why do you think I was always telling you to hang out with Vivian and her mothers?"

"What? I don't know! How should I know?" Matty blustered. "That doesn't make any sense!"

"But- but they're lesbians!"

"So it's okay to be a lesbian?"

Gail coughed a laugh, cutting them off. "Zack, that's parent logic." He looked confused. "Matt, he's trying to say that he wanted you to have good, gay, role models. So you'd know you could be anything."

Vivian snorted. "God knows why they picked you, Mom." Both Gail and Holly poked her and she smiled.

"Oh," Matty said softly, looking at Gail and Holly with newfound confusion and respect. "They're not normal, Dad. Nobody else has parents that devoted."

Holly furrowed her brows. "I'm feeling old. Was that a compliment?"

"Yes, Mom," promised Vivian.

"But your moms are weird, Viv!"

"Yeah, but it's a good weird," she insisted, and Matty had to agree. She watched his father look incredibly lost. "Matty, your dad's trying to say he's okay with the gay."

Matty scowled. "He could just say it."

"Parents don't speak English," she noted.

But they all seemed to be on the same page now. Matty ended up staying the rest of the week, meeting with other police officers, lawyers, and the new acting principal. Vivian suspected the forced hand of Pecks involved there. While Matty stayed out of school that week, Vivian did not, facing the minor shunning of many of her classmates. But a larger number, including people like Ashley, all stuck up for her. There was a 'wear pink to fight homophobia' movement, and Gail cheerily helped dye Vivian's hair bright pink to go along with it.

It wasn't for a few weeks that she thought to ask Holly about it, and she had to wait until Gail wasn't home. Because while Gail had been fairly exclusively heterosexual until meeting Holly (her mother once implied there'd been a drunken kiss or two in college), it was Holly who had been the teenager stumbling along the way.

"Hey, Mom?" Vivian leaned in the doorway of the office, watching Holly type away on some new article about bone deterioration.

"What's up, honey?" She didn't look up, but that was normal.

"Were you bullied in school?"

Her mother stopped and looked up, surprised, at Vivian. "Is your school still-"

"No, no, Mom." Vivian grimaced and came inside, sitting on the couch. "I mean like Matty."

"Oh. Because I'm a gold star lesbian?" When Vivian nodded, Holly tapped the keys and closed her laptop. "Yes. But not really." With a sheepish expression, Holly got up and pulled her yearbooks off the bottom shelf and sat next to Vivian. "So here's me before I graduated. Nerd central."

Vivian looked at the younger version of Holly in the picture. She was on that edge of being an adult, having just shed the last lingering traces of childishness. Her face was Holly, a little rounded but Holly all the same. While the Holly now had a sort of cougar type beauty, something ageless, little Holly was on the cusp of gorgeous. In the tiny photo, she was taller than her friends, none of whom Vivian recognized, and held herself awkwardly, as if her limbs had grown overnight. The posture threatened to break hearts in a year or so. The clothes and glasses were nerd central, though. A geeky t-shirt under a flannel shirt, cut off jeans and Birkenstocks, with birth control glasses. "Wow. Lesbian science nerd much?"

"Somewhere I have photos of my grunge phase. But here is me as a freshman." A second book was put on top, open to a page with the science club.

Boom. Totally uncomfortable, totally twitchy Holly. Holly whose skin was too tight and her body not doing what she wanted. Holly with her arms wrapped around her torso, a member of the science club, trying to smile and looking nervous. A target. That was the face of someone who got teased and tripped and shoved, but not rolled and kicked like Matty.

"Didn't you play sports?" Vivian looked at her hockey playing, runner, mother curiously.

"Not till later that year. After someone poured yogurt into my locker. That was awesome."

Vivian flipped through the pages, looking for more photos of her mother, until Holly took over and showed her all of them. "So ... What? Being harassed by idiots is normal?"

"Common." Holly smiled at some memory in the photos. "Everyone's subjected to some of it, at some point or another."

With a sigh, Vivian leaned against Holly and was not surprised when Holly's arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. Holly had great hugs, safe hugs. "I think I hate people."

"You and me and your mom, honey," sighed Holly. "You get why they do it, though. Right?"

"Yeah, kind of." Vivian hunched a little. "They hurt and lash out in ways that make them feel better. I get that. I just don't get _why_ they do it."

And Holly laughed a little. "Don't go into psychology."

Laughing too, Vivian felt a little better. It was okay not to understand. "I just wish I could stop people like that. Stop the Mattys from getting hurt." The idea that had been fermenting in the back of her head bubbled up and, for now, Vivian kept it to herself.

"Whatever you become, however you do that, you know we'll support you."

They probably knew, but they were letting it go for now. "Thanks," she sighed.

Holly didn't say anything for a little while, just letting Vivian leech off her. "So. Matty's doing okay with his dad?"

"Yeah, he got all excited about going to Japan this summer." According to Matty, his father was going to schedule his trips around Matty's school, taking him along. The rest of the year, unless it was a catastrophe, he worked from home. "His dad threatened to quit."

Her mother smiled. "Good. Matty needs him. God knows his mother's always been worthless."

Vivian stifled a laugh, but she felt troubled at the same time. "That makes less sense. Aren't parents supposed to love their kids?"

The arm around her tensed and Holly sighed. "Oh. Honey." She rested her cheek against Vivian's head. "I don't know why people are like that."

It was safe sitting there with Holly. It was safe in a different way than sitting with Gail. "My grandparents, they tried to get custody?" She kind of remembered it, in a vague way where she knew she'd been afraid of it.

"They did. They said family would be better than two total strangers with busy, high risk jobs."

"I don't remember why I was afraid of them," whispered Vivian.

Holly exhaled. "I can't answer that either," she admitted. And then hesitated. Her moms hated pushing her about her memories. "Gail hates talking about it. Still." That was Holly's way of asking around, telling Vivian it was okay to talk, or not, about her memories.

Biting her lip, Vivian finally had to point out, "You don't talk about the whole Ebola thing."

The silence hung for a moment. "Okay. Fair game. I was terrified. Almost as much as that month Gail was missing." And Holly told her about what had happened, from her perspective, including the part where a detective was killed in front of her and then, later, her assistant died.

Both names, Andrea and Luke, were familiar, but Vivian hadn't met them. Not that she could remember. It was a little disconcerting to realize how much Gail had kept from her when Holly was sick. That Holly had a fever at all would have worried her then. Now, knowing how terrible Ebola and similar diseases were, it was galling. No wonder Gail had been tense and scared. No wonder six year old Vivian had been in the dark.

But all she could ask was, "Were you scared going back to work?"

"Yes and no," mused Holly. "Do you remember when you saw Gail on the news the first time?" Vivian did. She had it, and all of Gail's TV appearances saved on discs. "When we picked her up at the hospital, I freaked out. Then I was scared, because hospitals ... Hospitals were where people died. That scared me. Work... I don't know. It didn't bother me."

A doctor afraid of hospitals. "It's a good thing you're a dead people doctor, Mom," sighed Vivian, and Holly laughed in agreement.

"I think, though, it's because it was so far outside normal. That my brain just never really sorted out what happened in the sense that it could happen again. The whole time I was being ushered into isolation, I kept thinking it couldn't possibly be happening." Holly shook her head. "It was utterly random."

Things that were random, things that had no place in ones life, were often the hardest to place and cope with. At least they were for Vivian. Gail's damage was random and chemical. Holly's was truly random and still scarred her. Vivian's was inherited perhaps. Random but not so random. Sometimes she wondered what insanity or evil she carried in her genes. Was she going to go crazy too and hurt people? Was that why she wanted to help people so much right now?

Holly shook her lightly. "Hey, get out of your head for a second, Viv. What's going on in there?" Holly's voice was so absolutely normal. It wasn't super calm but it was just someone asking her a question like it was any day.

"It's busy," sighed Vivian.

"Nagging voice making you think you're messed up, or telling you it'd be better if you started over?" That was the voice of experience. That sounded like both Gail and Holly.

She smiled and squirmed out of Holly's hold to sit and look at her. "What's the truth?"

Holly blinked a few times. "Okay," she drew out slowly. "You've lost me here."

"What parts of me are because of you and Mom and... And what parts are from _them_?"

Tilting her head, Holly was soothing. "You can call them your parents-"

"I won't," Vivian found herself snapping. "They're not. They just gave birth to me. They're not my parents. You guys are."

Every time she said that, Holly would get a weird, happy sort of cry face on. It was like she didn't expect to hear it. If Viv said it to Gail, her puckish mother would laugh and say that of course she was. But to Holly, it was still a present to hear that Vivian saw her as a mother. It was also a delight for Holly to have Gail call her a wife, or for her work to refer to her as the chief medical examiner. Holly was just a good person and happy by nature. She celebrated in the things that made her happy. Vivian wished she could be that happy all the time.

Holly made no attempt to hide the wet eyes. "I am, Viv, but so are they. It doesn't bother us if you talk about them."

Sighing loudly, Vivian let her head drop back onto the couch. "What's there to talk about? All I remember is the shouting stuff."

"Well. If you ever want to talk about that..." Holly trailed off. "Or not."

Vivian snorted. "I'll take 'or not' please." She paused. That wasn't true. She took a deep breath. "The thing is I just don't remember a lot. And ... When I look at myself, I see you guys. Grandpa Brian says sometimes I'm like seeing you all over again but I kinda wonder if the crazy bits are in there too?"

Would Matty be like his mother one day? Would she be like her father?

"You can't know," sighed Holly, tucking a leg up underneath herself. "They probably are, though. We can't ever really escape what people made us."

Vivian groaned. "Thanks, Mom, that was hella heartening."

But Holly chuckled softly. "Honey. That means you'll never really escape the things Gail or I taught you too."

She stopped and stared at her mother. Yes, she had five and some years with her birth parents, but it was now ten and change with Holly and Gail. Every day meant more and more impact of them on her life. Them and people like Oliver, or Traci, or Lisa, or even Dov. And all those people would shape her too.

And that was what Holly meant. Yes, her first few years would shape her. Yes, the fighting and arguments would sit in her forever. Yes, the deaths would too. But so would all the wonderful things like playing softball or going to the range or sleeping out at the cottage ... Watching her mothers be in love after all this time.

"Well," mumbled Vivian, feeling embarrassed. "I guess it could be worse."

"You should be glad you met Gail after she was housebroken," teased Holly, getting up.

Vivian giggled. "I'm _so_ telling Mom you said that!"

And they laughed as they went downstairs.

Maybe it was okay that she couldn't ever escape her past. If she did, she wouldn't be who she was now. If the things that had warped her hadn't happened, would she even be Vivian? In the end, she liked who she was for the most part. She was a good person, she cared about others, and those were things her mothers taught her. Survival through the insanity and being a better person.

There were worse things she could grow up to be than Gail or Holly.

* * *

 _When I was in school, a boy who had a locker beside mine had all manners of horrible things written on it. I feel horrible and ashamed of my thirteen year old self for not doing anything about it. Sorry, P. The best I can say is I never wrote on his locker and I helped wash it off._

 _By the way, yes, Vivian has a car before Lonely Spinster. She just really loves driving other cars because hers is a piece of shit and Gail still won't let her out on the police training course. Elaine has a cool (i.e. modern) car. Gail's is a tricked out Detective Package car. Holly's car is boring, though. She has a soccer mom SUV.  
_


	15. Plus Ones

**Chapter 15: Plus Ones**

 **Type: Angst / Family**

 **Rating: T**

 _Does anyone else wonder what happened to Walter and Constance?_

 _This takes place a few months after Bill died (chapter 2 of this fic). That's a bad year, isn't it?_

* * *

The names were weirdly familiar. Holly just couldn't place them. "I'm sorry, ma'am, this _is_ the Peck residence, but ... "

An older voice cracked on the other side, cutting over the repetitive explanation from the woman who said she was a lawyer for someone named Walter. "Oh just put the cynical blonde on, she'll know. Tell her it's Constance."

"Oh. Gail? Hang on." Holly frowned and pressed mute. In the kitchen, Gail was showing Vivian how to caramelize onions. "Honey, there's a lawyer and a really cranky old lady named Constance on your phone."

Her wife blinked, clearly startled. "Constance? As in and Walter?"

"That's who the lawyer..." Holly shook her head and held out Gail's phone. "By the way, you forgot to charge it again."

"Right. Can you...?" They traded the spoon and phone and Gail tapped the screen. "Viv, don't let them burn."

"Right, Mom," nodded Vivian, confused, and she turned to Holly. "Who are Constance and Walter?"

"Some people your Mom knows," shrugged Holly and she started to stir the onions. Right away, Vivian corrected her technique. The thirteen year old was taking after Gail more and more every day.

She tried to listen to Gail's conversation, but it was very brief. "We're making dinner, why don't you just come over now, Constance... There are some ... Yeah, yeah I did." Gail's blue eyes sharpened, crinkling as she smiled at Holly. She rattled off their address and hung up, looking at once happy and worried.

"Are we having guests?"

"Uh. Yeah. Holly, do you remember the plus one thing?"

Without prompting, Vivian held a fist up. "Plus ones forever!"

As Gail smiled and ruffled her daughter's hair, Holly placed the names. "Oh! The old people who got you to ask me to the wedding!"

Gail rolled her eyes. "Right... That was Constance and Walter's lawyer. She's bringing Constance over so we can, ah, talk."

Those were words Holly had no problem unpacking. Neither did Vivian. "Did Walter die?"

"No, he had a stroke. But _apparently_ they kept my card all this time." When Holly's eyebrows shot up, Gail shrugged. "They don't have any children."

"You must have made quite an impression," mused Holly, studying her wife's face carefully.

"I guess. Viv, can you please put on a clean shirt?" Everyone looked at the slightly grubby, though in an apron, teenager in her soccer clothes.

Vivian looked embarrassed. "I'll shower."

As Viv dashed off upstairs, Gail covered her mouth. Holly wheezed, trying not to laugh, "Oh my god. Six years." Holly broke and chortled.

"I don't know what to say," whispered Gail, close to tears of laughter. Finally after six years Vivian was voluntarily showering of her own volition.

Holly wrapped her arms around Gail and laughed into her shoulder. "Honey, this year is really a shit kicker." With a shaky sigh, Gail nodded. "You know I'm here for you. I'm not going anywhere."

The blonde nodded again. "You're way too good to me, Holly."

"You keep me grounded, Peck," promised Holly, taking Gail's face in her hands and kissing her gently. "Now. What do I need to know about Constance?"

By the time Gail told the story about the robbery and meeting Constance and Walter, Holly felt like she was having the most hilarious flashback to the bitchy Gail she'd met in the woods. They set the table for five, Vivian getting downstairs in clean clothes just as the doorbell rang. Nervously, her wife took off her apron and brushed at her shirt. Then she opened the door.

Holly sometimes felt like her parents and Gail's were old. Especially after Bill's death. But there was a massive difference between the seventies and the nineties. This woman, Constance, was in her mid to late nineties, and her body was bowed to the weight of the time. She was thin and almost frail, wrists bony, and her skin had a weird parchment quality to it. The color in her hair was all but washed out, yet it still clung to the last vestiges of brown. Her eyes were sharp and sparkling.

In many ways, Holly realized this was what she would look at in another fifty years with Gail, all things willing.

"Officer Peck," smiled Constance. She didn't try to hug Gail.

"Actually it's Detective Peck." Gail scratched the back of her head. "Please, come in. You should meet... Um..."

"Your plus one?" Shrewdly, Constance smiled at Holly and then Vivian. "I like the haircut."

"Oh, that's a story," sighed Gail. "Constance, this is my wife, Dr. Holly Stewart, and our daughter, Vivian Green. Holly, Viv, this is Constance Silvers."

The three last names didn't seem to miss Constance's eagle eye. "Married? You?"

Holly grinned. "At the courthouse. There are limits. It's nice to meet you, Constance," she added, holding a hand out. "Apparently this one only asked me out because of you."

Gail blushed. "Really? You just had to start there, didn't you?"

"Always, honey." Holly led Constance to the dinner table while Gail introduced herself to the lawyer, a woman named Amanda, and Vivian lingered a little shyly on the outskirts.

Constance smirked at Holly. "She hasn't changed much, has she?"

Looking over, Holly smiled. "Oh, only in good ways. Don't let her fool you, she's still cranky and cynical."

"Thank goodness, or I wouldn't recognize her." The older woman smiled deeply. "So. Plus one. How did you two meet?"

Holly sat down and began the story of meeting Gail, slightly edited, and how Gail later asked her to a wedding just as friends. "And then _someone_ kissed me in the coat closet," teased Gail, leaning over to kiss Holly's cheek. "Viv, bring the salad to the table please."

Hesitantly, Vivian sat down between her mothers after putting down the salad bowl, facing the guests. Holly smiled at her daughter. "I think the story bores her to tears now. She's heard it a million times."

Gail chuckled. "Not exactly a fairytale," she mused, putting the chicken and potatoes down. "Constance, Amanda, would you like something to drink? Water, wine, beer? I think we have some juice."

"I would love a glass of white wine," said Constance, decisively, as Amanda began to decline on her behalf. "Don't start with me, it won't kill me." Rolling her eyes, much like Gail did, Constance turned to the quiet Vivian conspiratorially, "They're always telling me to live life in moderation. Where's the fun in that?"

Vivian smiled shyly and admitted that didn't sound fun at all. "I made the brownies for desert," she added quietly.

Both of Constance's eyebrows raised. "You made the desert?"

"And Mom made the dinner."

There was a pause and before Vivian could clarify, Constance looked right at Gail. "You can cook too?"

Gail gave her best sardonic smirk. "What?"

Rolling her eyes, Holly gestured. "I told you she hasn't changed much. She only trusts me with the salads most of the time."

They didn't talk about deep things at dinner, though when the brownies and coffee came out, Constance sighed. "Thank you for inviting me over, Gail."

"It seemed like something better said in person. How's Walter?"

"Well it was his third stroke. He said it was par for the course at our age." Both Gail and Constance smirked, catching the joke for what it was. "He said to tell you hello."

Holly blinked. "He's awake and talking?" When both women looked at her, she blushed. "Sorry."

Jerking her thumb over, Gail smiled. "She goes into doctor mode when she's stressed."

"Walter is awake," smiled Constance. "However he's feeling very mortal. And neither of us have children."

Oh. Gail and Holly looked at each other, blinking. "Constance..." Gail frowned. "We knew each other for one day." Admittedly, it was a day that had greatly changed Holly's life in the end, but she had a point.

"Oh heavens, no, Gail. We're not dumping our affairs you."

Exhaling loudly, Gail leaned back. "Well you brought a lawyer," she pointed out.

"Well someone had to drive me," sassed Constance. "You didn't think we were going to dump oodles of cash on you, did you Gail? Come, now, you're not that vain."

Gail snorted. "It really was out of the blue."

Confused, Vivian asked, "But we don't need money, do we Mom?"

"We're fine, Viv," promised Holly. "But it's not polite to talk about it at the table."

Vivian screwed her face up in confusion. "That's so weird. We talk about it with Elaine and Uncle Eli."

"That's family business." Holly looked apologetically at Gail, who just shrugged. "You have to admit, it's a little strange."

"Well. Walter." Constance shrugged. "He wanted to make sure you got on alright."

Gail flushed a little. "Pretty well, I think," she admitted.

With a smile, Constance gestured at Holly, "Married."

"Yeah, not sure how that happened." Gail shrugged.

"We were arguing about kids and I pointed out how it'd be easier if we were married." Holly smiled fondly. "And you said as long as it wasn't a wedding."

"No one asked you, Lunchbox," sassed Gail, but she was smiling.

Constance positively beamed. "I'm glad you found your plus one, Gail."

Finally Vivian entered the conversation on her own. "Is _that_ where you got that from, Moms?" Before either could answer, Vivian explained to Constance, "Their rings are engraved. And Gail told me I could be their plus one when I asked if they'd adopt me."

Watching an old woman laugh was akin to watching a small child laugh. There was a degree of freedom they carried, something no one else did. A child laughed with the freedom of responsibility. Constance laughed with the freedom of knowing and seeing all things. And both had laughter of pure joy.

None of that joy made dinner any less confusing, of course. There didn't seem to be an ulterior motive, but the way Gail kept narrowing her eyes made Holly wonder if there was something her wife was waiting for Constance to unpack. Gail didn't push, instead she willfully shared parts of their life with the woman and her lawyer, sharing the car-bomb story, as well as the softball adventures, and adoption. By the time the brownies were gone, it was Holly who had deduced the situation.

"What stage?"

She knew she could have phrased it differently or asked it more gently, but Holly knew Gail and she was pretty sure she knew Constance. And Holly was a doctor. She could see it in the color of the skin and the way it moved. It was a long time since she'd seen it in anyone, and never in the body of someone she liked, but right now she saw it in Constance and understood what this was.

"Does it really matter at this point?" Constance was dismissive.

Gail caught on, sighing and leaning back. "You could have just said."

The older woman looked at both of them in turn and sighed. "Kidney. By the time they found it, it had spread. It's in my bones. At this point, the doctors say it's weeks. Or months. Or years. I don't think they know." Constance paused and looked at Holly. "Sorry."

"I'm a forensic pathologist," demurred Holly.

"And rather smart." Constance smiled. "I don't like endings. They're never complete. You always wonder what if." She turned to Vivian. "Did you ever read fairy tales?"

A normal child would have said yes. Vivian was not normal. "Not that I remember. I read the E. Nesbit books. Do they count?"

Constance was clearly surprised. "I suppose. Gail, you didn't read her fairy tales?"

"She was six when we met her," sighed Gail, getting up. "And it's not my fault she knew about Santa either."

Vivian looked worriedly at Gail. "Is that bad?"

"No, it's not," Gail promised and ruffled Vivian's hair as she picked up her plate. "So this is ... What? Wanting to catch up with me after eleven years?"

Constance shrugged. "I don't have any children. You left an impression and, now, I know what to do with what Walter and I have left."

Stopping, Gail froze with Holly's brownie plate in hand. "Now I'm scared."

But Constance turned to her lawyer. "Youth care. And ... What do you call it? LGBT?"

Gail grimaced. "Really? They will never let me stop being on that stupid float," she snarled.

"Oh that was you!"

"Christ!" Gail stomped to the dishwasher while Vivian and Holly laughed.

"She's not really mad," promised Holly.

Constance chuckled. "I guessed as much."

The lawyer, at Constance's behest, made notes of the groups the family had worked with to adopt Vivian, as well as the ones Gail did for the police pride work, and promised that things would be sorted. It was very strange. Holly wondered what the conversations with her parents might be. What would they want to do with their things? Would she keep the house? Maybe she and Gail would move out there? Except as Gail had said before, her whole life was here.

When Bill had died, leaving all his things in an uproar, Gail and Steve had struggled to come to terms with both their feelings of the matter and what to do with a man's life. They'd ended up using his savings to pay off the condo and then turned around and let Leo and Sophie, both twenty and in college, rent it out. Winnie moved in with them, making a modern day Three's Company sort of house. Gail just made them swear not to keep it like she and Chris and Dov had.

But that had a sort of empty lack of closure. That was Bill's fault, what had happened for his children. Since January, Gail had been frustrated and depressed, which Holly understood to be all tied in to those emotional knots by being left behind. Bill had never called her. Not for the five years since Gail snapped at him not to waylay her at work. Gail, being Gail, vented her feelings in ways that could be non-productive, and with the upcoming promotion to head of Major Crimes, she'd been under incredible pressure that hadn't gotten easier.

Gail had joked it was good she was a Peck, and used to staggering amounts of pressure.

Holly, the Chief Medical Examiner, knew what that felt like, just a bit, and was doing her best to keep Gail out of a tree.

She leaned back and watched Gail and Constance talk about things that would be done. There was a different set to her wife's face. She'd seen it before. Gail was perilously close to some sort of break. Reached over, Holly took one of Gail's hands just like she did almost every day, and rubbed her thumb across the back. The blue eyes darted over, flashing an almost apologetic look.

There was going to be a crack later.

Back before she met Gail, Holly felt both messed up and charmed. She was charmed because she had parents who loved her unconditionally, friends who were like family, and nothing really _bad_ had ever happened to her. But she was messed up because clearly that would explain why she had no relationship last longer than a couple months. And only a messed up person bolted out of relationships (though that was very much because she wasn't into men). And no one normal went into pathology, as Lisa often said.

For a long time, she thought being a little messed up meant she was weak or a bit of a failure. But she was a professional success no matter how you looked at it. Holly was respected, given accolades, praised, and lauded. She was sought after and thanked and... Well damn it, Lisa, she loved her work. She loved the puzzle solving and she was good at it. So if she was a little weird, well that was okay. She didn't need to be perfect and she didn't need to have a 'someone' to be happy.

And then she met someone who, no matter how scared or broken or messed up she was, went back out there, day after day, and kept on doing what needed to be done. Even when no one thanked her. The more she'd learned about Gail over their first two years, the more she felt daunted. Gail got back up, every damn day. Gail took hits from her friends, from her family, accepted it as a painful normal, covered her scars with snarl and bite, and kept on.

But the price ... Everyone wanted her to be something. Everyone wanted a little bit of Gail to make themselves feel better. Of the rookies, Dov freely admitted he'd been wrong and let her take a fall for something that was as much his fault as anyone else's. Traci had become a steadfast friend who had her back, but privately told Holly she felt guilty for falling into the herd view on what a Peck was. The ex, Nick, said he should have given Gail a second chance, since she gave him one. Andy was, well, Andy. She was just sorry.

Years of them not being friends, in the beginning, had left their marks. Sure, Gail was incredibly loyal to them all, but she didn't trust any of them with her heart. She didn't tell them how she felt. She never let them see her cry.

After Constance left, hugging Holly only, they were all quiet and went upstairs. Vivian hesitated at her door while Gail, hands shoved deep in pockets, walked into the master bedroom with her head and eyes down. She'd locked herself in her head.

"Mom's not okay, is she?"

Holly sighed. "No. She's having a hard time."

Nodding, Vivian hung on her door frame. "I wish I could make her feel better."

"Me too, honey." Holly kissed Vivian's forehead. "Goodnight."

"Night, Mom." Vivian hesitated a moment, hugged Holly quickly, and vanished into her room.

Holly too hesitated before going into the bedroom. It was hard to gauge someone else's depression. The best Holly could do these days was recognize in herself when she was feeling down. Thankfully Gail was phenomenally great at dragging Holly out of her head and going to batting cages or a sports game. She knew when Holly needed to sit on the couch and relax, when she needed to get outside, and when she needed to spend time with her friends. But Holly was predictable. Holly could talk about what she was feeling and why.

The myriad ways Gail's feelings manifested were harder to guess. She could be silent, she could be angry, she could be sleepless, she could even cry. And it was April. Holly rubbed her forehead as she opened the door. In four days, Gail would be making a dawn trip to the graveyard. Right now, though, Gail was still staring at the bathroom.

"Hey," said Holly quietly, closing the door behind her.

"Should I stop at Dad's grave?" Gail's hands were still in her pockets. "He's right there."

"You don't have to."

Gail sighed and nodded. "Right." But she didn't move.

Hard to tell. Holly walked up and gently rested a hand between Gail's shoulder blades. "Honey." Her back was tense and stiff. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's not like I'm the one with cancer." That disparaging, dismissing tone sent Holly back a decade. She didn't say anything this time, she just leaned against Gail's back. That was all it took. Gail's back curved and shook.

That was normal. Gail couldn't break unless she felt safe. She didn't cry in front of other people. Except Holly. Not normal was hearing Gail actually sob. Hearing. That was odd. And bad. All the anguish Holly had expected to see after Bill died came out here, in this moment.

There were no words. There was no need for them. Holly gently turned Gail around, wrapping her arms around her and holding her close. They ended up sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall to the bathroom, while Gail just gave in to everything that had been building up for four months. Holly kept her arm around Gail's shoulders, letting her wear herself down. This kind of break was easier to deal with for Holly's own jangled nerves.

Also new was the door creaking open and, silently, a twelve year old sitting on the other side of Gail, leaning against her. Holly nearly shooed her off, but there was something calming about having Vivian there too. The three of them stayed like that for a long time. Far longer than Gail's crying ran, certainly. Gail leaned against Holly while Vivian leaned against Gail, all three breathing quietly in the night.

"Moms," said Vivian finally, breaking the silence. "I know I'm way too old, but can I sleep in here tonight?"

Holly hesitated. It was probably an okay idea. But...

"You're not too old," muttered Gail. "I get the middle."

Of course she did. Holly nudged Gail into the shower and, after her own, they were all tucked into the bed. "Tell me the truth, Peck. You insisted on the king bed because you wanted kids," teased Holly as she settled in.

"Truth? You sleep in the middle and my ribs were hurt," smiled Gail.

"You steal the blankets, Mom," chastised Vivian, who had a book in hand. "Now be quiet." Gail stifled a giggle but was quiet. "Good. Seven-Day Magic, by Edward Eager. 'The best kind of book,' said Barnaby, 'is a magic book.' 'Naturally,' said John."

As their daughter read one of the books that Holly had adored growing up, the tension in Gail's shoulders lessened. No matter how hard she tried, though, Holly drifted off first. She woke up in the middle of the night when Gail stole the blanket. Her wife and daughter were sound asleep, Vivian scrunched up in the corner and Gail curled up against Holly with all of Holly's portion of the blankets. Gently tugging the covers free from Gail, Holly snuggled up and smiled.

It was a rough few days after that. They went and saw Walter in the hospital, which nearly gave Holly a panic attack. She still did not like hospital rooms. Seeing someone on his deathbed in a hospital room was worse. Holly was only able to stay in the hospital room for a few minutes before Gail told her to wait outside.

Constance came with, sitting beside her, and in a heartbeat, Holly was telling the older woman all about her experience with a viral disease. She couldn't say what it was exactly, that had never been declassified, but she could say that she had been in isolation for 18 days and watched someone die from the disease. The older woman took her hand and patted it, saying she couldn't fathom what that was like. And Constance told her not to go back in to see Walter again if it was too hard.

The guilt drove her to go in a second time, apologizing, but Constance just told Walter that Holly was a darling. Walter remarked that anyone married to Gail would have to be the bravest, most patient and understanding person ever. He couldn't move the right side of his body at all, but his left hand was held by Constance the entire time she was there.

Once they were out of the hospital, Gail was incredibly closed off. Holly couldn't blame her, but she enlisted Vivian to drag Gail out of her tree and ask Gail to go to the firing range. That helped reset Gail's brain enough that she was mostly herself at dinner, enough that she teased the hell out of Holly for overcooking the pasta.

Then it was the day Gail dreaded every year. By extension, it was Holly's least favorite day too.

Early in the morning, Gail went by herself to the graveyard. Both Vivian and Holly were up and waiting for her when she got home, taking Gail out to a pancake breakfast. Vivian skipped school that day and they ended up hanging out by the lake for a while, talking about little things like how Vivian wanted to join the track team, how Holly was thinking about not playing hockey, or how Gail wanted to go horseback riding.

Lunch was at home, Gail showing Vivian how to make panini sandwiches properly, and after they played catch and teased Gail about not being able to throw a football. Still. The retort was to have Gail trounce Holly at video games.

That day felt easy until Gail woke up in the middle of the night, sweating and gripping the sheets in terror. Holly had been awake anyway, having found that menopause was making it nigh impossible to sleep through the night. Gail's nightmare had been startling. One moment she was sound out, breathing deeply with that near snore she had when truly, fully, asleep. The next she was sitting up panting, eyes wide, a strange sound coming from the back of her throat, like the way you had to swallow letters when speaking French.

Holly swallowed her fear and surprise. "Gail, honey?" It was possible she was still asleep.

"Yeah," she croaked, touching the back of her head. Before, Gail would always check her neck, her forehead, and her arm. Over the years, she'd changed to touching her short hair and using that to verify where and when she was.

Certain Gail was awake, Holly put her book down and scooted over. "I'm here," she told her wife quietly. It was strange, but Holly felt almost at ease with the nightmares. An inconsistent constant in their life, the dreams were one of the first times Holly had really gotten to see the person behind the cop wall. It was when she knew she really wanted to know more about Gail.

Gail leaned into Holly's arm. Her hands were shaking badly. "That was weird," she muttered. "Hang on." And, shaky as she was, Gail got up and went into the hallway. She came back right away, still looking incredibly jittery, and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Perik had Viv," grumbled Gail. "And I was Jerry. Which is weird and stupid since I don't ..." She stopped and frowned. "I think I heard them talking. I thought I was hallucinating. But Jerry was talking about how he was looking for a cop, and then something about doctors without borders, and then... Then I heard a fight."

It had been thirteen years and Gail was still learning new things about the day. Maybe if she'd agreed to do the regression therapy it would be different, but probably not. The true nature of why Gail's brain didn't let go of the event was directly tied to the drugs. At her new doctor's insistence, Gail had an MRI and a CT scan that revealed actual, legit, brain damage.

After making a lot of morbid jokes, Gail asked a serious question. Would she have to retire? The doctor had stared at her, surprised, and said not at all. Besides the fact that it was an exceptionally rare occurrence for just one day's use of the drug, it hadn't caused reasons to pin her to a desk yet, and the lesions were tiny. Essentially, she'd had the damage for a decade and it didn't seem to be impacting her daily life.

He went on to theorize that, based on where the lesions were, Gail's nightmares were effectively a lock-in from the drugs. She had a susceptibility to drugs to start with, they always hit her hard, and the use of those particular pharmaceuticals had been downright synergistic. Which meant the nightmares would probably never go away. He did suggest trying a sleep study, to see if they could isolate exactly what situations caused the nightmares.

Thus far, it was obvious that stress was a huge factor. The stress of the anniversary of being kidnapped plus the surprising stress of her father dying and knowing that Walter and Constance were likely going to die as well...

Holly sighed and leaned against Gail's back, resting her head on her wife's shoulder. "Do you remember what they said?"

"Bits and pieces."

While Gail wasn't shaking much, her hands had a hell of a twitch. Holly reached around to take them in her own, squeezing them. "Perik's dead. He can't hurt you or Viv."

Gail nodded. "I know," she said quietly.

She didn't say those things because she thought Gail didn't know. She said them because they reiterated the truth. They reminded everyone of the reality. Holly rubbed her thumbs on the back of Gail's hands, her tan skin making soothing circles on the soft, pale, skin of her wife. "It's not real," she whispered. "Andy and Chloe aren't dancing backups."

That made Gail snort a laugh. Of all the dreams Gail told her about, that had been the most hilarious one. Perik á la Bollywood. "Lemme write this down," Gail said sadly.

Holly let go and put her book away, hugging her knees on her side of the bed until Gail was done and curled up under the covers again. "Want me to keep the light on?"

"No." Gail reached over to touch Holly's leg, watching her as Holly turned off the light and put her glasses on the night stand. "Do you ever have nightmares about things?"

Snuggling up beside Gail, Holly found her hand and laced their fingers together. "Not really. I had a weird dream that Perik was the guy in the hazmat suit, but that was when I was sick in isolation."

Beside her, Gail made an annoyed sound. "You didn't tell me about that."

"I was a bit excited about my own shower," admitted Holly and Gail laughed. "He opened the bag, the one with the vials? And it was your head in there. Which... Yech. It was not a good time."

"Two apprentices," Gail sighed. "Sometimes when we pick up a weird case, I wonder if I'll find a third."

"I doubt it." The hand in hers squeezed. "It's been a decade, honey. I think it's over."

"God I hope so." They lay in silence for a while. "Why were you awake?"

Holly hummed softly. "Same as it's been for a while, honey." The side effects of menopause had not been fun. Dryness, hot flashes, insomnia, and sex drive had all had their run. For someone as impatient as Gail could be, she took this in stride. The fact that Holly had been on anti-depressants for a while made it easier to deal with, since that helped with the weird mood swings and irritability. The sex drive... Well that hadn't been anyone's idea of fun.

It had swung back around to normal eventually. Gail had been, well, Gail. She'd been flirty with Holly as usual. They'd held hands and cuddled on the swing bench outside. And she'd still kissed Holly in that long, lingering, toe curling way she could. It wasn't long before the hormones in Holly's body responded to Gail's affection. Those soft touches and the kisses... God she loved how Gail kissed.

There was a _lot_ more foreplay.

And sometimes, like now, Holly's body got warmed up just thinking about it. Which sucked because this was absolutely not the time for it.

Gail sighed and squeezed Holly's hand. "You are still beautiful, Holly," she said quietly, rolling to her side and kissing Holly's shoulder.

That was not helping her libido. Holly exhaled, a little shakily. "To quote my irrepressible wife, I know."

The joke distracted Gail enough and her wife settled down and went to sleep. It took Holly a little longer to convince her body that it needed to cool down and sleep, but that too eventually happened.

Sadly, it was the start of a shitty few days. Walter died in his sleep and, without any warning, Constance a few days later. A rather shell shocked Gail had taken the phone call and looked so haunted that John had called Holly asking how to diagnosis a stroke. But when he told Gail that Holly was on the phone, Gail picked it up and said she was going home. Constance had been further along with cancer than she'd implied. Perhaps she was just holding on for Walter, making sure he didn't die alone in a bed.

They went to the funeral, though Gail wore a simple black dress and not her uniform, and Vivian stayed home. When Gail said she didn't think that Viv should come, the teenager just asked if she could please be allowed to make them something to eat for when they got home.

At the funeral were a few people. Only three from the robbery were still alive and mobile, and they all remembered Gail. They thanked her for coming, and one asked about Oliver. He looked delighted to hear that Oliver had married the girl he took to 'that wedding' and they had a family. Surprisingly there was a stone. It had been one bought in advance by the couple. It was a simple double stone that just said their names, the dates, and a sentence. No, not a sentence, three simple words. Plus Ones Forever.

Long after everyone else left, Gail stood there holding Holly's hand, looking thoughtful. Unlike her father's funeral, where she couldn't wait to get away from the gravesite, Gail lingered.

"Do you want that?" The sentence surprised Holly. "A stone like that, I mean."

The first thought Holly had was that Vivian would never let them live it down. Then she realized they'd be dead. Then she smiled as a better, happier thought occurred to her. "You want to spend the rest of your life with me?"

Gail blinked at her. "Well. Yeah. Stupid. Of course I do."

Holly grinned and Gail matched it almost sheepishly. There they were, at a funeral, at the graveside, smiling like idiots. "We're not being buried," remarked Holly.

"No. We can put a stone by our tree? Here lies Holly and Gail. Plus ones forever."

Laughing, Holly squeezed Gail's hand. "You're such a cheese puff." Gail shrugged and smiled. "Does talking to the graves really help?"

"I don't know. I thought it was helping me." Sighing, Gail rubbed the side of her neck. It had helped keep nightmares at bay for many years.

"This year was special."

Grumbling, Gail mumbled, "This year has been shit. All it needs is for something stupid to happen to you, or me, or Viv..."

Well used to Gail's morbid sense of the world, and sharing it, Holly offered an additional option. "Your mother could have another heart attack."

"Proof she has a heart," quipped Gail.

"Should I stop putting garlic in the dinner when she comes over?" They both chuckled. "I want to say something to them."

Gail hesitated. "Should I go?"

Shaking her head, Holly kept hold of Gail's hand. How did you do this? "Hello Walter. Constance." Beside her, Gail nodded a little. "I'm sorry I only met you a couple times. Gail hates endings. And old people. And hospitals. Actually I'm really not sure how we ended up together." There was a snort beside her. "But you told Gail one thing that changed my life, and hers, and you may not have known until this month, but you gave me a future. So thank you."

After the silence sat for a while, Gail asked, "That it?"

"Well what would you say?"

Gail tilted her head. "I thought they were a million years old a decade ago. Frenemies for life. Plus ones. Whatever. They weren't us, you know. I don't look at you and see them, I see... I see you, Holly. Maybe I'm lucky because they spurred me to ask you out but you... You came, Holly. You always come when I need you. That's why I love you."

Turning to face Gail, they held hands. "I love you too, you ninny," smiled Holly and she kissed Gail softly. "You're always there when I need you, and you always care about me."

It was in a very thoughtful tone that Gail replied, "Do you think we'll die like they did? Right after the other?"

"Only if we make it to a million, honey."

And Gail smiled. "We'll work on it."

* * *

 _Goodness, that's three fairly dramatic chapters in a row. Clearly I need some suggestions for happy things._


	16. Growing Up Peck (When You're Not a Peck)

**Chapter 16: Growing Up Peck (When You** **'** **re Not a Peck)**

 **Type: Family / Drama**

 **Rating: K**

 _Vivian Green has grown up, from age 6, with Gail and Holly. What would it be like, being raised by Holly and Gail? What kind of teenager and adult would you be? Is she a Peck? Gail_ _'_ _s not the normal kind of Peck anymore, so what kind of Peck would Vivian be if she was?_

 _Vivian is 18, in her senior year of High School, and that means we_ _'_ _re ten years_ _ **after**_ _the end of_ _"_ _Out With The Old._ _"_

* * *

Pecks were funny creatures. They had certain standards for themselves, though Gail once remarked her mother expected more. There were even three Peck 'rules' that Elaine still lived by, even if she was a Peck in name only: Always remember who you are. Work harder than everyone else. Don't screw up.

Vivian was the opposite of Elaine. Or maybe she was a Peck exactly like Elaine had been at one point. She was a Peck in everything but the name. She'd spent just about eleven years at the hips of Gail and Holly, watching her mothers take on the world with schadenfreude and style. Her favorite thing was the sarcasm and bite. Neither Gail nor Holly let people get away with stupidity.

Sadly that included herself.

"Vivian Lydia Green! You're busted!" The voice of her mother startled her out of a sound sleep. Gail's voice could be so piercing.

"McGill!" That was her other mother, her voice less loud and grating for the hour. More excited though. Of course she was more excited. Holly loved Montréal.

"Moms! God, you suck." She groaned and pulled the pillow over her head. Vivian knew what was coming next. Her bedroom door opened and both her mothers jumped on her bed chanting McGill.

The stupid acceptance letter. Vivian thought she'd put it away safely. Her mothers never snooped, which was impressive considering she had a detective inspector and the chief medical examiner for parents. Holly just wouldn't, she didn't have it in her, and Gail swore up and down she wouldn't be like her own parents.

It was Gail who hugged her first. Hugging was not how Vivian or Gail ever liked to communicate, but this was something worth being hugged over. "I told you you'd get in!"

Vivian whined. "Its _six_ in the morning! It's _Saturday_." And Gail was not even a morning person.

Draping herself over Vivian's legs, Holly mused aloud, "Is this payback for all the mornings she knocked before we wanted to get up?"

"No," decided Gail. "That will happen when we go to Montréal and walk in on her in her dorm." She ruffled Vivian's hair. "I told you French was useful."

Trying to pull the blanket over her head, Vivian growled. "They speak English there."

Holly patted Vivian's knee and got up. "Has Steve's French gotten any better?" She held a hand out for Gail.

Finally Gail stopped being the cuddly mom and got up, kissing Holly. "Nope! It'll be fun." Gagging at her parents, Vivian succeeded in hiding under her blankets. "Come on, Monkey. Pancakes."

After a moment, Vivian peeked out. "Well," laughed Holly. "You got her attention." She slapped Gail's ass and ushered her out the door. "Congratulations, honey," Holly added, pulling the door closed.

Vivian sighed. She did love them, her adopted parents. They were goofy and weird and smart and fun. Nearly eleven years ago, she'd ended up with them as a temporary stopgap to a series of foster homes she'd struggled at. From what they'd told her later, the social worker had picked them because there were no men in the house. It had taken Vivian years to get used to trusting men, especially men with guns, and she remembered being upset and uncomfortable about Uncle Oliver having one, let alone Gail.

Boy had things changed. Vivian tagged along with Gail most of the time when her mother went to the range; she even had her own gun now and had gotten a minor's gun license, much to Holly's chagrin. There was something calming about how her mother handled a gun, the way all her cop friends did, that had made it alright. Just like how Holly made it impossible to fear the dead, Gail made it so Vivian wasn't afraid of guns.

Her memories of exactly why she'd been afraid of guns and cautious of men were muddled. What Vivian did know was that she had been more concerned about people being armed than the guns themselves. Once in a while she'd remember something about her birth parents and that horrible day, but it really all had blurred into something that often felt like it had happened to someone else. Vibrant were the memories of playing softball with Holly and Gail, going to the cottage with everyone, vacations to Vancouver, shooting with Elaine, learning how to ride a horse with Aunt BitchTits.

There was a yelp and laughter from downstairs and Vivian smiled. Her parents were married thirteen years (fourteen this summer). She'd been their legal child for just over ten years, since December. And if you'd asked Vivian to count the number of times she'd walked in on her parents being goofy, romantic, making out, or (God help her) practically having sex on the couch, she would not be able to do so. Her best friend, Olivia Best, had called them horny perverts more than once, but Vivian didn't mind so much.

To Vivian's mind, she knew things hadn't always been that great. She remembered there was the six months when she'd been ten that her mothers suffered from what Aunt Lisa explained to be 'lesbian bed death.' Lisa arranged for the parents to get five days and four nights up at the cabin, alone, while she babysat Vivian at the house. It was during that time that Lisa had asked why Vivian didn't stay over anywhere. She'd not told Aunt BT the story, but she had explained it gave her nightmares and Lisa had been understanding. That turned out to be the tipping point for Vivian sleeping without a nightlight at least.

Getting dressed, Vivian crept down the stairs and watched her mothers in the kitchen. Holly, precision and science, was in an apron, carefully measuring out ingredients. Gail, messy and instinctive, had flour on her shirt and face, happily teasing Holly and calling her a nerd for leveling out the baking powder. Of course Gail was the one who'd taken cooking classes for a time. Gail was comfortable with experimenting while cooking and seemed to not need recipes. She liked to wing it.

Even more of white in Holly's hair was becoming clearly visible from a distance. This wasn't a surprise, though it always made Vivian feel weird. In her head, Holly was still the same 40-something who'd adopted her and shortly there-after complained Gail hadn't told her about the white hairs. But really, Holly was in her fifties. She'd be 52 this year and had a totally awesome Anne Bancroft thing going on, while the rest of her hair was starting to take on a silver hue. Gail had just turned 45 last November, but her hair had been remarkably resilient to turning white. Of course, Gail was so frequently dying her hair everything from platinum blonde to dark brown that Vivian wasn't entirely sure that was true. Once every three years or so, she saw her mother's natural reddish-blonde hair.

But while bodies and hair had changed, the goofiness and sarcasm of both women had not. They were both given to morbid humor and dark jokes, even when it had to do with things like Gail's nightmares. Vivian's had faded over time. She rarely woke up in the middle of the night, imagining coming home to her parents dead, though sleepovers generally resulted in not sleeping at all. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a flashback to that horrible day. It was all starting to fade, though she remembered her parents fighting and screaming… she couldn't remember her sister's face anymore. The photo album felt like it belonged to someone else. She hadn't looked at that album in a couple years. She wasn't sure where it was.

The same wasn't true for Gail, who still carried the scars of one night nearly eighteen years ago. There were days when Gail was just antsy and tense and even Holly would struggle to get her 'out of the tree.' That was a metaphor they'd never fully explained, but Vivian was pretty sure it meant Gail's tendency to try to avoid pain and drama by making an emergency situation. Or maybe it was how she'd obsess and overwork at being the perfect cop and parent. More than once, Holly had enforced a vacation and asked Vivian to help make sure Gail took a break.

It did cut both ways. Holly's freak-out tactic when she was overwhelmed was to run. She'd lock herself in her office or take a business trip. Sometimes she'd just plain balk. And Gail would pull her back in, remind her it was safe and they were a team. It was the same thing; Holly would tell Gail, urging her to let go. Gail would tell Holly to hang on. Sometimes Gail would just sit on Holly, literally, and hold her. For a woman who insisted she didn't communicate with hugs, Holly was always Gail's exception.

Vivian knew she was a little more like Gail, tending to shut down and hold it all inside. Both her parents would help keep her out of her own head, talking to her and making sure she wasn't alone. They all made a team. They fought sometimes, argued about Gail being overprotective or Holly being too controlling a parent. They got mad at Vivian when she was an idiot teenager, she got mad at them for being grownups who didn't understand.

And here they all still were, a decade and change later. A family.

"You done spying on us?" Gail didn't even look over.

"Shut up, Inspector Mom," smiled Vivian and was amused by Gail's huff. She knew that Gail had called Elaine 'Superintendent Mom' for years (also Herr Peck). It was hard to think of the awkward grandmother who kicked her ass at Scrabble and cards as the mean, uncaring harpy that everyone insisted she'd been for years. Even Holly still had issues with Elaine. But Uncle Ollie swore it was true, so it must be.

Gail's promotion to Inspector Detective had been surprise. When the rumors of her boss, Butler, retiring had reached her, Gail had simply commented that she hoped her new boss was as cool. Three weeks later, Gail's father had died and Butler told her that she was his top pick. Vivian remembered when Gail came home looking stunned. She'd been officially tapped for the job. Holly knew she'd get it, pointing out Gail had been working for that for years. It had been a rough first two years for Gail, as the lead for Major Cases in Fifteen, starting with a serial killer and an assassination attempt on the new mayor, but she'd persevered. As time went on, she became an Inspector and now was point for all of Organized Crimes for Fifteen and Twenty-Seven.

By contrast, Holly's ascension to chief medical examiner was expected and planned and crafted out of perfection. Her position as medical director had been a sideways stepping stone, one she'd done as a maneuver to get around the annoying assistant medical examiner. But when that asshole had been retired (Gail's words), Holly had taken over the role with the knowledge that the top spot would be hers in a few years. And it had all worked out exactly as Holly wanted. The chief medical examiner for almost five years now, Holly was well respected and known across the country.

Holly swatted Gail's arm. "Did Liv get in?"

"No, not yet at least," sighed Vivian and she came into the kitchen. Liv, Olivia Best, had been her best friend since first grade. They'd bonded when a thick headed classmate had said something or another about cops sucking. She couldn't even remember now what the fuss had been about, though she remembered it was a fight with Loren. But since then, Liv and Viv had been inseparable. At least until this last year.

She caught a squinted glance from Gail and looked away. Her detective Mom was hard to fool, ever. There was no way Gail didn't know something was up with her and Liv, and Vivian didn't want to talk about it.

"Well there's time," Holly said, oblivious to the looks. "I didn't get into UoT till late."

Gail smirked, "What? This is news!" She bumped her hip into Holly's. "You almost didn't get into UoT? Were you waitlisted? I bet you were. You were _totally_ waitlisted!"

In return, Holly flicked batter at Gail's face. "I was not waitlisted, you pest," she smiled at Gail fondly. "I was second rounded. The med program is competitive. And I graduated top of my class, thank you."

"With BitchTits as your competition, I'm not shocked," teased Gail.

Vivian watched the interplay and grinned. They were _always_ like that. It hadn't changed in a decade. "When does the second round come out?"

Holly looked over. "If it's the same as it was-"

"- Thirty five yeaaaaars ago," sassed Gail.

"- then it's in a week or two, max." Holly rolled her eyes, "See what I put up with, Viv?"

But Gail in her childish mood was not to be denied. "You looooove me, you want to kiiiiiiiss me." With a look that admitted all of that was entirely true, Holly leaned in to lick the batter off Gail's face. Gail yelped, "Oh my god, you are so gross, Holly!" She dipped her fingers into the batter and tried to get some on Holly's face.

As her mothers capered, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," sighed Vivian, tromping over and wondering who'd be over this early on a Saturday anyway. She checked the peephole first, out of years of Gail lectures regarding safety. "For crying out loud, you _have_ a key, Liv!"

Still, she opened the door for her friend, who thrust an unopened letter into her face. "I can't do it, Viv!" McGill. It was a small envelope, just like the one Vivian had gotten the week before. "Wait, do your moms-"

"They found the letter this morning," sighed Vivian. "Speaking of, Moms, how _did_ you find that?"

From the kitchen, Holly called out, "It was in the garage."

Must have fallen out of her bag figured Vivian and she shrugged. "Don't tell me you hid that from Frank and Noelle..."

"Sophie's home," explained Liv. "I got it yesterday, but we were out all to dinner." She shoved the letter into her pocket as Gail came around the corner. "Hi, Aunt Gail! Did you know you have batter on your face?" Liv was smiling way too much.

"Hi, Liv. Did _you_ know my kid got into McGill?" Gail wiped her face off with her shirtsleeve.

"Yes, ma'am," giggled Liv. "Does that mean no pancakes for me?" Gail sighed dramatically and said everyone got breakfast. "Cool. Sophie said she'd come over Sunday." Sophie, Liv's adopted big sister, was currently attending Berkley to be a lawyer.

Years ago, when Olivia and Vivian had been babies, Gail had wanted to adopt Sophie on her own. There had been something related to that timeframe that broke up Gail and Holly at that time, involving Aunt BitchTits, but all they said now was that they were stupid and didn't communicate properly. Vivian had pestered Aunt Lisa for the details and had been surprised to learn that her parents really had broken up over a stupid fight, followed by Holly almost leaving the country, a failed adoption of Sophie, and then Gail's family screwing over everyone.

It was epic and Vivian still couldn't reconcile that Elaine with the one she knew. Elaine had killed Holly's Visa. It still didn't make sense.

Gail nodded at Liv and grabbed her hair to shake Liv's head affectionately. "She's a grown ass woman and can pick up her phone. What brings you here so early?"

Sheepishly Liv shrugged. "She got a letter from McGill and she's freaking out," explained Vivian, getting coffee mugs for everyone.

"Decaf, please," said Holly. "For you too, pixie stick Peck." Behind Holly's back, Gail signed asking for a half-and-half and Vivian gave her an okay sign. You couldn't survive in their household without knowing sign language. "Hello, Liv. Did you hear from UoT yet?"

"Yeah," nodded Liv, taking Vivian's stool. "Same day Viv did. And BC."

"Lots of choices," Holly remarked. "Okay, Gail, feed the kids."

Of course Gail already had a small pancake in her mouth, but she did bring two plates over for Liv and Viv. "Liv, grab the butter and syrup," said Gail, taking her coffee from Viv. "Viv, fruit?"

"I'm a guest!" Liv was already moving to get the pancake condiments.

"You're family," argued Gail, swapping out cooking with Holly and letting her wife have coffee too. "And you're being a chickenshit."

"Gail," admonished Holly. "Not all of us know what we're going to be out of high school." Her parents shared a look of years, understanding each other well.

Liv sighed and took a bite of the pancake. "I don't know what I want to be." Studiously, Vivian looked at her plate and said nothing, dumping strawberries on her pancakes. "How'd you know, Aunt Holly?"

Sitting down at the island, Holly smiled. "When I was a kid, I saw a dead body. I knew then." Liv looked thoughtful and starting asking Holly for more details. They'd talked about that, off and on, for years. Liv had remained interested in science since they were kids, while Vivian's interest in maths had faded somewhat. She was still good at it, but she was slowly drawn to the more practical things.

As she listened to the conversation around her, Vivian hunched her shoulders. She did know what she wanted. It was just troubling to talk about it right now, even with her parents. As she drew crosshatches in the syrup on her plate, Vivian caught Gail's eyes again. Yeah, her mom knew something was up.

In typical Gail fashion, however, the detective started hassling Liv instead. Holly gently chastised Gail, but made no move to intervene. It was always Gail's job to hassle the kids like that. From Liv revealing her first crush to Vivian's being cast as the lead in a school play. Gail's love for the kids was shown in teasing, hair ruffles, jokes, and unflagging support. You could say a lot of bad things about Gail and her barbs, but she was unwaveringly loyal to her people. And kids were always her people.

Gail somehow had managed to get Liv's letter out of her pocket and was holding the teenager at arm's length while trying to open the letter with her other hand. Vivian shook her head, "Mom, seriously, can't you grow up?"

"Give up on that," suggested Holly, clearly amused by the blonde capering. "I stopped suggesting it years ago."

"You like me this way!" Gail used her teeth to open the letter. "Oh, I'm sorry Liv," she sighed. "You're stuck in Toronto."

Crestfallen, Liv stopped reaching for the letter. "I didn't get in." She turned and looked at Vivian, chewing her lip sadly. Vivian frowned and looked back at her plate. Now what?

But Holly, clearly far more accustomed to Gail that anyone else in the room, snatched the letter and read it aloud. "Dear Ms. Olivia Best. We are pleased to invite you to our-"

" _PSYCH!_ " shouted Gail at the top of her lungs, stunning Liv.

"You are such a shit, Mom," muttered Vivian, trying not to smile. She had too many warring emotions going on just then.

* * *

Saturday was normally the day to clean and go out. Sometimes going out just meant gardening in the back, or her parents taking a walk together, or Liv coming over and going for a bike ride. Other times it was going to a sports game where one of the kids were playing. They'd been doing the same sorts of things for years and Vivian liked it that way. The consistency of her family had been one of the best things, growing up. The stability had slowly washed away her fears and doubts and most of the memories of her birth parents insanity.

This Saturday, after Liv called her parents, she came with them for the walk. They walked side by side, half a block behind Viv's parents. Gail and Holly held hands, occasionally bumping shoulders as they walked.

"They're sickening sometimes," muttered Olivia.

"I don't mind," shrugged Vivian, her hands shoved in her pockets. She didn't really think that. She was still amazed how much her parents were in love.

"You need to tell them," Liv said quietly.

"I know." She did know. She wanted to. But she also didn't. "Are you going to go to McGill?"

Liv shrugged. "They have a great forensics department." They had an awesome one. It was world famous. "You think Aunt Holly will be mad," Liv ventured.

Kicking the dirt on the path, Viv shook her head. "Nah."

Her friend looked surprised, "You think _Gail_ will mind?" Viv nodded, glumly. "But why? I mean she's... Oh."

"Exactly," Vivian replied, morosely. "Have you talked to Frank and Noelle?"

"Not really," admitted Liv. "They know, kinda." They both sighed, hunching their shoulders.

They walked silently through the park and headed back home, pausing at a food truck just past to get some epic Brazilian food. Gail always knew how to find good food and her metabolism had always been incredibly high, which meant everyone could try a dish and trust Gail to eat the leftovers. Liv went home after lunch and Vivian cited homework as a reason to hide in her room for a while.

It bought her a few hours of silence, but she'd never been able to fool Gail about those things. Vivian expected that mother to be the one who knocked on her door, but the tap was the distinctive one of her doctor mom. "Mom?" She frowned and opened the door.

"Hey, can I come in?" Holly's hair was tied back in a loose bun, held in place by a pen. Clearly her moms had been working.

"Sure." Vivian sat on her bed, letting her mother take the desk chair.

Except Holly lingered and ran a hand over the stencil work Gail and Vivian had put up years ago. The princess and robot dinosaurs were still there, with random superhero ones. They'd painted it when Holly was stuck in isolation, decorating the room in a way Holly said only Gail would do. "I always felt like I missed the most important part of you, when I was stuck in the stupid tent," sighed Holly.

Vivian blinked. She had a different memory of the time they thought Holly had Ebola. No, wait, Luongo River Fever. What Vivian remembered was Gail being terrified of losing Holly, and herself feeling terrified she might have to leave. "That was the most important time?"

"That was when you and Gail got this... You had this connection. When I got back, when I was home, you two understood each other." Holly looked a little sad and sat next to Vivian on the bed. "I know you love me, Viv, but you're kind of Gail's daughter first."

"Mom," exhaled Vivian. "That's not true."

Holly arched her eyebrows. "I'm a Daddy's Girl, Viv. I know it when I see it. It's okay." Staring at her hands, Vivian frowned. "But there's always stuff I can't talk to my dad about. Personal stuff." Laughing, Vivian tried to picture talking to Grandpa Brian about personal things. "Exactly. So I talk to my mom when I need to."

"Like... What do you talk to Grandma Lily about?"

"Your mother," smiled Holly. "Falling in love with a straight girl? Yikes." That story Vivian had heard a hundred times. She smiled at her mother. "When I get scared and want to hide, and I can't talk to your mom, I have my mom."

Really, Holly was way better to talk to about things that you weren't sure of, though this was something Vivian did know. "I know what I want to do. After school," she said quietly. And Holly waited. "Mom... She's gonna get upset. And I don't... I don't want to hurt your feelings."

Tilting her head, Holly asked sincerely, "Why do you think that, honey?"

So she told her mother what she wanted to be, how she wanted to be, and saw Holly's eyes get wet. Vivian didn't want to cry, but damn it, when Holly cried, you tended to as well. They hugged, Holly promising that Gail absolutely would not be upset. Maybe a little shocked and loud, but not mad at all. And she swore she wasn't mad either. In fact, she was happy. It was easy and safe to hold on to Holly, to admit to being afraid.

"Thanks," she whispered, still holding on to her mother tightly.

"I'm really good with cats in trees," replied Holly, gently rubbing Vivian's back. "But honestly, I thought you were going to tell me why McGill was freaking you out."

Ugh. They both noticed. Vivian let go and rubbed her face, wiping away the tears and snot with her sleeve. She could lie to her mothers, but they always figured it out. "Liv," she muttered.

First she frowned, then Holly's eyebrows rose in not surprise but sad recognition. "Oh."

"Yeah." Vivian hunched her shoulders, wishing her face wasn't turning red, or that she was tanner like Holly. Liv who wanted to study medicine and maybe forensics at McGill and be a scientist. Liv who had a boyfriend. Liv who wanted to go to the same school as Viv, so they could be friends and together forever. Liv whom Viv had a massive crush on for the last year.

"Honey," sighed Holly, heartfelt and understanding. She pulled Vivian in for another hug, a different hug. This was sympathy.

Sniffling, Vivian wished she was small enough to curl up in Holly's lap like she had when she had been a child and Gail was undercover. Steve had come over with Oliver to explain that John and Gail were out of contact. They'd lost contact. And they wanted Holly to know so she wouldn't be alone and worried. But unlike Gail and her panic when Holly had been isolated, Holly was calm and steady and perfectly alright. She held on to Vivian, when Viv was terrified about loosing that goofy blonde mother she'd become attached to. It had terrified her and Holly had been so wonderful and caring. "It sucks," she told Holly, sadly.

Silently rocking Vivian like she was small again, Holly gave her that unconditional mom support she was so good with providing. Where Gail was the storm who was loyal and protected, Holly was the shelter who trusted and comforted. Not to say Viv had never seen Holly in a fit of anger at the parent who said Vivian was going to be messed up by having two moms, or felt Gail's comforting hugs when she'd been sick. But her mothers complimented each other.

When Vivian stopped feeling like quite as much crap, she exhaled loudly. Sensing the need, Holly let her go. "It never gets easier, honey," Holly admitted.

Vivian laughed morosely. "Awesome, thanks, Mom." But weirdly, it helped. "Don't tell Gail. Please?"

Holly frowned a little but nodded. "Of course I won't, but honey... She'll understand. All of it."

"I know, I just... It's never gonna happen. So I don't want her... You know what she'd do."

And Holly looked rueful. "You mean take Liv out for a drive and tell her to stop stringing you on? Yeah, okay, good point. Tact has never been her style."

Vivian smiled. "She's not patient either. How did she wait for you?"

"Grumpily," grinned Holly. "She gave her roommates hell."

They laughed at that thought, cheering up a little. With a final, quick, hug and a kiss for her forehead, Holly got up to go. "Hey, Mom? You're a really awesome mom." She paused and then said in a rush, "You're a real mom, in all the ways everybody says a mom should be so. So, um, don't think you're not. Okay?"

Holly smiled gently. "Okay, honey."

She watched her mom leave the room and frowned. Years and years ago, when Aunt Celery had ended up pregnant, her moms had talked about having a baby. While they'd had no plans to actually do that, Vivian had gotten angry about the very idea of it and snapped at Holly that she wasn't her real mom. Sometimes Vivian wondered if that lingered and made Holly doubt herself. Sometimes she wondered if the compactness of their family was her fault.

Her mothers had been there for her, holding her hand and letting her go. When Matty had gotten beat up at school, they'd both given her unflagging support and help. They'd been proud of her for standing up and doing the right things, for getting help when it was needed, for not backing down.

But. But Gail was closer to Vivian on many levels. They could talk about so much more because there was a level where they understood each other so much better. Did that make Holly feel excluded? Did she really understand that Vivian saw her as a mother as much as Gail? They were her parents. Nothing could or would change that.

* * *

As Holly had predicted, Gail was stunned. Vivian waited until Sunday dinner to tell her what she'd told Holly. At least some of it. "What?" Gail actually stopped eating, putting down her fork and looking like the time Uncle Steve had blasted an air horn in her face and chanted she was a loser after he beat her at a target shoot on _his_ birthday. It was the only loss since they'd both joined the force, too.

"I want to be a cop," repeated Vivian. "After college, I want to go to the academy and be a police officer."

Gail leaned back in her seat and looked at Holly. "Did my mother-"

"No, honey," smiled Holly. "Elaine had nothing to do with this."

"Okay, because I didn't-"

"I know."

Gail narrowed her eyes. "She told you already."

"She did."

With a huff, Gail picked up her fork. "You suck." That was to Holly, not Vivian. "Viv, you don't have to do that for me. You know that, right?"

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Sometimes you're such a loser, Mom." Stifling a laugh, Holly ducked her head. "I want this. I... I've been thinking about it seriously since Uncle Oliver retired."

Poor Uncle Ollie. He'd never fully gotten his hearing back after a shooting deafened him years ago. So he had taken early retirement just before Halloween, which had saddened Gail considerably. "I'm listening," Gail said softly.

"Well. I was thinking about what you and Dov said, about how there needed to be more people like Uncle Ollie out there, making sure everyone was safe. So I ... I thought maybe I could do that. Eventually. I know not today, or even tomorrow, but I could totally be making sure people got trained right and didn't do stupid things, like Gerald."

"God, Gerald," muttered Gail. "You know it's going to be hard. Because of me and your grandparents."

When Vivian hesitated, Holly cleared her throat. "Tell her," she encouraged.

"Tell me what?" Gail eyed Holly who held up her hands, and the two looked like they were about to scuffle.

"I want to change my name," blurted Vivian. Gail turned slowly, tilting her head. "To ... Um. To Vivian Stewart Peck. Not- not a hyphen."

Gail's expression didn't change. She was cool and collected, but her smile was that fake, thin, smile she got sometimes at work. "Okay," replied Gail at length.

"Gail," admonished Holly.

But Gail shook her head. "Doesn't matter. She's eighteen, even if I say no, she'd just do it anyway."

"That isn't what she means, Gail Peck, and you know it."

"She doesn't understand what it means, Holly!"

Holly was clearly in Vivian's corner and countered, "She's seen it most of her life, Gail. She knows."

Throwing her hands up, Gail scowled. "It's not at all the same thing as living it. She's only seen a tip of how weird it gets."

Vivian frowned, "She's sitting right here, Moms, and I do too." That stopped her mothers from bickering. "Pecks are loyal. They know who they are. They do the right thing. And they protect Toronto." Gail clammed up. "But... I don't want to be a Peck because of _them_ , Mom. I don't want to be like them. I want to be like you and Uncle Steve... Well. Mostly you." She cleared her throat. "Mom, you guys are my heroes."

Looking away, Gail frowned. "I don't want you to suffer like Steve or I did," she muttered.

Instead of answering, Vivian looked at Holly, confused. "Honey." Holly's hand covered Gail's. "You know that's not going to happen."

"I really don't, Holly," sighed Gail, looking pained. "I don't know at all and neither do you." She looked at Vivian. "I don't care what your last name is, Viv. You're my kid."

She nodded. "It's not about that, Mom. It's... It's important to _me_. To carry it on."

Gail scowled. "It's not important for me, but Peck or not, you know there's an extra burden to being one. Especially if you decide to really be a cop."

Chewing her lip, Vivian said softly, "I don't want to be a Green anymore."

And Gail was loud, "So be a Stewart! Your know it won't bother me!" Very rarely had Gail ever been loud at Vivian. And most of the time it wasn't that she was mad at Viv directly.

The only way to tackle Gail in this mood was to go around the issue. "You know Mom would've taken your name if she wasn't already totally famous, right?"

Her mothers shared a look, Gail's of surprise and Holly's of sheepish agreement. "We never talked about it," confessed Holly.

"What?" Gail looked flummoxed, though she was still loud. "You didn't tell me that."

"We sort of got married in a rush."

Gail's loudness stopped and she propped her chin on her fist, looking fondly at Holly. "You proposed out of nowhere."

"I still can't believe you planned it for our lunch break." The fond look was returned, Holly reaching over to hold Gail's free hand. "Or that the courier was sick." That sent them both into slightly embarrassed giggles.

"Would you really have been Holly Peck?" Highly amused, Gail clearly had never thought about it.

"It's a nice name. Political power." Holly looked thoughtful. "Maybe I would have been medical examiner faster if I was Dr. Holly Stewart Peck."

Making a face, Gail shook her head. "But then the fun of watching Brian get fussed when Dr. Stewart, no the other one, happens would be gone. I love watching him get confused about that."

Holly smiled. "Well. I won't do it _now_. But you could have been Detective Gail Stewart." There was a pause and everyone laughed.

"Yeah, and given Toronto a coronary," sighed Gail. "Monkey, are you dropping the Lydia?"

"Four names felt a bit much," shrugged Vivian. It was her biological paternal grandmothers name, too. Not someone she really cared about. "You're not mad?"

Gail rolled her eyes. "Viv, when have we ever been mad at you?"

"When I took your car without permission _and_ dented the door?"

"That was Steve's fault for telling you he'd gotten my permission," countered Gail.

Smiling, Holly offered, "Or when she threw that party when we were in New York?"

The blonde snorted. "You were mad. I wasn't."

"Oh, what about when I failed French-"

"I was _not_ mad about the damn French," laughed Gail. "I was mad you just failed on purpose. You're such a damn smart kid..." She reached over to gently shove Vivian's shoulder. "I'm not mad. I just didn't expect this tonight. I thought you were going to tell me about the crush you've got on Liv."

Vivian turned beet red and looked at Holly, who was also surprised. "Mom!"

Looking between her daughter and her wife, Gail made an soft oh noise. "Whoops. Was I not supposed to say?" Holly tossed her hands up and shook her head in amused frustration.

* * *

She caught her parents talking on the porch in the dark hours of the night. Vivian's phone had rung, Liv calling to talk about colleges and things, and she'd wandered out to the tire swing to talk in privacy. Even though being Liv's friend hurt, Viv wasn't yet willing to let it go or screw it up. She needed her best friend.

Vaguely Vivian remembered Gail telling her that she and Holly had broken up once, and during that time Gail had helped Holly prepare to move to the States and then, when that had failed, Gail helped her unpack. All while being hopelessly in love with Holly and convinced they could never happen. It was romantic in a way and insane in more. But it did mirror how she felt about Liv just then. If being a friend and a shoulder were all she could be, then she'd take it, because the alternative was worse.

After calming Liv down, Viv padded across the lawn to the house. As she came up to the side porch, she heard Gail asking Holly what she really thought.

"I think she'll be great," Holly said quietly. "She's been really into police-work since you went missing on that assassination plot."

"I meant about the name, you nerd." Gail was laughing softly, but Vivian found herself frozen. The memory of Steve talking to her about why Gail was missing, telling her the truth about a plot to kill the Prince of Wales and how Gail, John, and Chloe were attempting to prevent it. That had been a turning point for her life. That was the moment she knew... Yes, she'd been thinking about it seriously since Oliver retired, but before then it was that. She knew what she wanted to be. What she had to be.

"Other than she made me cry? It's her choice, honey."

"God, you are so annoying." But there was a lightness to Gail's voice. A soft sound followed, kissing. Her parents were kissing. Again. Vivian shook her head. How could they always be so cavalier about the risks in Gail's life? And then so prepared to accept it in Vivian's? It was hard to say who was more insane, her or her parents.

"I love you too," sighed Holly. She had that happy tone to her voice, the one that meant she was smiling that silly, quirky, smile. The smile that made Gail complain she was going to melt and do whatever Holly wanted.

Gail said something, but Vivian couldn't make it out, and Holly giggled. Then Gail said, "You know you have to have the talk with her now."

"What?" Holly sounded startled.

"I did the whole boys thing. You have to do girls. That was the deal."

"Oh for— Gail, I'm pretty sure she knows about lesbian sex. God knows she's caught us at it." There was nothing but silence from Gail. "Fine. Fine. I'll embarrass us both." Gail muttered a thank you and there was another quiet sound. The noises changed, turning into softer sounds. Ugh. Speaking of catching her parents at it... Maybe she could sneak back in the other way and avoid her parents making out.

Abruptly, Gail's voice was louder, "Viv, go to bed."

"She's not... Oh." Holly cleared her throat as Vivian poked her head around the corner. Blushing, her mother tugged at her shirt, getting it back into place.

Gail, who never had any shame about getting caught making out, pulled Holly back into her arms so they were stretched out comfortably. "You okay, monkey?"

"Yep, talking to Liv." She waggled her phone and caught the sympathetic look from Holly. "I think she wants to go to McGill."

"Its a good school," Gail pointed out, resting her chin on Holly's shoulder. "You have some time to figure out where you want to go." Vivian nodded and kicked at a leaf on the deck. "You know, you can live in the dorms even if you go to UoT."

She eyed her mothers. "You just want to have loud sex," Vivian pointed out. With a monster, toothy, grin, Gail nodded. "Didn't you live at home when you went to college?"

"I did," confirmed Gail. "The Peck McMansion was bigger, though, and I was also about an eighth as mature as you are."

"You're still only half," Holly teased.

Gail snorted. "Growing up is overrated." Smiling, Holly leaned her head back and kissed Gail softly. They did that a lot, all of Vivian's life. They held hands and kissed like they had all the time in the world to be together.

Normally when Vivian saw that, she was happy. Not many people had parents who knew how much they had to lose, and who cared so much to make sure the other always knew where they stood. Dimly she remembered when a detective, Cruz, had been shot and Gail saved her life. She'd been with Holly when they picked up Gail at the hospital. Of course Gail was fine, but for the first time Holly had been visibly terrified and it astounded Vivian. They loved each other and even a day less than forever would be too much.

Right now it was a little annoying and painful.

"I'm going to bed, Moms." She walked over to kiss Holly and then Gail on the forehead. "Don't stay up all night making out like teenagers."

Whatever reply was on Gail's lips was stopped by Holly elbowing her. "Hush. Don't poke the Monkey. Night, honey."

Retreating inside, Vivian paused at the door and heard Gail ask a strange question. "Did we run on both legs?"

"A little slower, but we did," replied Holly. "Thank you. For Viv."

"Hey, you're all Super SecretKeeper Mom."

"You're not mad?"

"If I had human emotions, I'd cry," joked Gail. "I'm scared, but ... God, I think I need to ask my mom if she was scared when Steve and I signed up."

The conversation became quieter and Vivian sighed, taking herself off to bed.

* * *

She wasn't surprised that someone had filled out the paperwork before breakfast. One of her mothers was a night owl, the other a morning bird. The paperwork was typed in and printed, just waiting for her signature as both Holly and Gail had scribbled their own names. "Don't I have to sign it in front of the judge?"

"You do not," Holly said. She had her phone out and was already tapping into it. "Okay, you have track today, so you'll be home late. I should be done with meetings by six... Gail has a case."

"It's raining," Vivian noted. "Track'll be canceled if it keeps up, so I can make dinner, Mom." Holly frowned a little. She always hated when Vivian took on extra chores. "Where's Mom?"

"She got called in earlier," sighed Holly. "I was going to suggest you go over to Frank and Noelle's..."

"Sure," shrugged Vivian, knowing she looked like Gail just then.

Holly studied her face quietly. "Viv." There was a rather impressive sort of tone that Holly used, saying just one word to express so many things. In this case, she was trying to let Vivian know that she didn't have to subject herself to hanging out with a girl who wasn't likely to return her feelings.

But that was all that was said. Vivian read the paperwork and frowned. "This is creepy," she told her mother, pointing at the paper. "Why are you my Dad?" Her parents had put in their names for her, since the paperwork said to put the adopted parents names.

"I lost the coin flip when we adopted you," laughed Holly, looking introspective. "I can't believe they haven't fixed that yet, either. Gail said she was going to yell at a judge."

They shared a look of resignation. Of course Gail would. When there needed to be an argument, you sent the Peck. Holly would go with the flow most of the time, but when she did chose to fight, it was impressive. This was the sort of thing Gail would tackle and Holly would ignore.

Vivian texted Liv, asking if she could come by for dinner since her parents were working, and Liv said she could if she'd pick her up for school. Unlike Vivian, who had her own car thanks to buying Steve's old one, Liv was stuck with a bicycle and a bus. Sometimes Vivian forgot that her parents actually had money. They didn't live extravagantly rich, certainly, but once in a while there were little reminders like Europe. Then again, Viv didn't have an older sibling or a dad with three ex-wives. She'd had a sister, once, and wondered what life might have been line if she'd survived.

But just like that, her day was normal. Go to the Bests' house, get Liv, go to school, learn, take tests, eat lunch, more classes, time for after school clubs. It was a routine. When she'd been younger, Vivian had found a lot of comfort in things being the same, day in and day out. It was such a contrast to the weirdness she barely remembered from her birth parents.

How odd it was to realize she'd forgotten so much about them. Vague wisps of memories of fights and yelling and her sister that was mostly a blur. She'd seen the photos, all salvaged by Gail after a lawsuit with the estate. Not that she'd been aware of the legal issues at the time, just that when she was twelve she'd asked why they didn't have anything from before she'd been adopted, and out came the albums.

That was what much of her life was like. There weren't secrets about her past, just answers to questions she'd not yet asked. If she asked, they told. Even things she wasn't sure she ultimately wanted to know. Like had she really found her father dead in the doorway... Yes. Vivian sprawled on a bench on the side of the quad and watched her classmates trudge between the buildings. She'd written about the situation in her college essay. What makes you interesting.

People always picked that. Or they went after how she had two mothers. Neither of those parts of her life felt like they were the most important. Gail and Holly could have been any gender-pairing, but they still somehow would have been themselves, and that meant they would have been the parents who let her see sanity and how to survive. Because if there was anything she'd learned from Gail, it was that you could survive horrible things. And Holly showed her you could be sane and stable in the madness.

She adored them.

"Hey, brainiac," sang Liv as she sat on Viv's legs. "Matty said you were moping over here."

Vivian sighed. "I think Mom isn't actually okay with the name thing."

"You told them?" When Vivian nodded, Liv sighed. "Come on, Aunt Gail can't _really_ be mad."

That was one of the things she loved about Liv. Her friend always knew which mom she meant. "She's not mad, she just had that shell thing going on." Her friend nodded. They both knew Gail and her moods pretty well. Gail was still the only person Viv knew who could shut down her emotions like that. It was usually why Holly got annoyed with Gail, too, and had been the cause of some of the only fights her parents got into in front of her.

Liv scooted off of Viv's legs. "Well, let your Mom take care of it. We've got track."

"Ugh, remind me why I let you talk me into that?"

"Because you, Ms. Soon-to-be-Peck, want to be a badass cop, and you'll have to chase bad guys."

"Hate you," groaned Vivian as Liv hauled her up.

The rain wasn't bad enough to cancel track, though it made for a muddy day. After, they hung out at Liv's with Sophie, who was thrilled her baby sister got into McGill. Having Sophie around made it easier to avoid her feelings, too, which was an added bonus. They finished homework and played video games with Sophie until Uncle Frank came home. He didn't seem surprised to see Vivian, though he never was. Vivian and Olivia had been going over to each other's houses after school for years, sharing parent load with the Bests and the Peck/Stewarts since the dawn of time. Until Sophie had left for university, she'd been their babysitter.

Frank admitted he'd miss it when the girls went off to school. Noelle, like Gail, seemed less sad about it and more excited for some privacy. For her part, Sophie joked she was going to move back home when she was done with grad school. Vivian liked dinner with the Bests. They didn't always get everyone home for a meal at the same time, but they were always friendly.

Halfway through dinner, Gail texted to ask if Vivian had eaten. Once Vivian admitted she had, Gail replied she'd see her at home whenever. That gave Vivian an excuse to leave after helping clean up. Liv walked with her to the door.

"Hey, Viv. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Just a lot to think about. Mom filed the papers over lunch for me."

Her best friend didn't buy it. "You've been acting weird for ages, Viv."

Shrugging, Vivian pointed out, "I'm pretty sure I've always been the weird one." Growing up, Viv had been the odd and abnormal one who never told people what she was thinking, while Liv was the fun one who said what was on her mind. Liv was frivolous and popular. The best anyone said about Vivian was that she was interestingly mercurial.

Right now, Liv was incredibly serious. "Are you mad at me?"

"What? No!" Vivian grimaced. "No, I'm not mad at you. God, don't be such a loser." She absently pushed at Liv's shoulder.

Liv smiled, a little relieved, and shoved Vivian back. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow "

"Sure. Need me to pick you up?"

"Please and thank you!" Liv grinned and hugged Vivian quickly before she went back inside.

Vivian managed to hold on to her groan of frustration until she got into her car.

At home, Gail was perched on a stool the kitchen island with her laptop and half of a turkey sandwich from the deli. At least it looked like turkey. Possibly with bacon, which Gail wasn't supposed to be eating. Her metabolism was high but lately so was her cholesterol. "Where's Mom? And does she know what you're eating?"

"Working an arson homicide with Traci, and no." Gail glanced over. "I had a salad."

"Pasta salad doesn't count, Mom."

"God, you're as bad as your mother." Reaching over, Gail held up the receipt of her dinner and scowled at her monitor.

Smiling, Vivian saw that Gail actually had a decent salad and the sandwich had no bacon. "You're such a child, Mom," she teased, getting out a glass of water.

Bright blue eyes peeked over the edge of the monitor. "Am not," sassed Gail, smirking. She tapped on the keys and reached for her phone. "I'm not going back out tonight, kiddo."

"I'm pretty sure I'm old enough to be home alone."

"Didn't say you weren't."

Eyeing her mother, Vivian shook her head. "I'm just saying. If you have to work, then you have to work."

"Thank you for your permission, Monkey." Gail shook her head and closed the laptop. "We solved the case this morning." With a massive yawn, Gail grimaced. "I really regret telling Holly that 46 isn't old," she grumbled, cleaning up after herself.

Vivian smirked and sat on the couch. "You're not old. When did you get up?"

With an oomph, Gail fell into her favorite chair. "Sometime around three. I'm too old for all-nighters." Gail closed her eyes and leaned back. "How are you doing?"

Sometimes having a detective for a mother sucked. "I'm okay," she said softly, turning on the TV.

Her mother was quiet for a while, so Vivian settled in to watch the show about an eccentric detective. She expected Gail to make her normal rude comments on the unbelievability of the show, but that wasn't what she finally said at the commercial break. "Do you remember the first time we took you to Vancouver?"

"My first time on a plane? Yeah." Vivian grinned. That had been the most amazing Christmas for many years. "Grandpa got mad at you that I didn't believe in Santa."

Gail laughed. "Everyone blamed me!" She smiled sadly at Vivian. "That was a tough year."

Why were both her parents thinking about that? "It worked out okay," she pointed out. There were a lot of little memories she held on to about that autumn and winter. That was when she'd been scared of losing Holly, not because she'd have to move to another family, but because she really liked the weird doctor and the goofy cop. There were a lot of people who found Gail intimidating or cold or bitchy, but Vivian grew up seeing her do things like shouting 'psych!' at the top of her lungs to Liv, or dance in the living room to some silly pop song, or look at Holly with open wonder and adoration, or a hundred other mom and wife things. "You guys are good parents," she told Gail, absently.

"You're a good kid," replied Gail. She reached over with her foot and poked Vivian's leg. "A cop, huh?"

"Yep." She popped the p, just like Gail did.

Gail shook her head and tucked her legs up underneath her. "You know it's a lot of work, Viv."

"I had noticed that."

"It's dangerous."

Vivian tilted her head. "I remember when you went missing, Mom." Her mother winced a little. "And I remember when Dov got hit by a car, when Nick got the concussion. Andy told me about the time Nick dry-fired a gun at her when she was undercover, too. I know."

Narrowing her eyes, Gail pointed out, "You don't have to do this. I'm going to be proud of you no matter what you do. Even if it's something I don't understand the point of, like Leo and that weird startup thing he's doing. Okay?"

Vivian nodded. "I know." She took a deep breath. "It's just ... I've seen you and Steve and Traci and everyone else do this for my whole life. I know it's hard and lots of times, the bad cops make us all look horrible and cause problems, but that doesn't meant I shouldn't do it, just that I'll have to work harder." She paused and added, softly, "I remember Chris, too, Mom."

Gail flinched a little. "I can't say I wasn't thinking about that. You didn't know Snowflake." When Vivian made a questioning noise, Gail elaborated. "My rookie, from start to finish. She died catching the idiot who exposed Holly to that stupid virus." Tilting her head, Gail exhaled loudly. "I worry about you, Viv."

She smiled. "That's your job, Mom."

"Even if you do everything right, it can still all go wrong."

Vivian looked at her mother seriously. "I know, Mom. But I want to do this."

With a sigh, Gail nodded. "Okay. And you're sure about the Peck thing?" Vivian nodded back. She was very sure about that. "Your grandmother is going to lose her mind," sighed Gail, explosively. "I'll do my best to keep her out of your hair."

"Come on, grandma can't be that bad," scoffed Vivian, and was surprised to see her mother's deeply quelling look.

* * *

Saturday, Sophie and Liv came over strategically after cleaning, and joined them for their regular walk. That week, little Chris Epstein and Jerry Shaw had a little league game, so they were obligated to watch. Gail was, against her own will, Chris' godparent. Holly was Jerry's, but that had to do with him nearly being born in her car. His middle name was a tribute to Holly. Dov, in his work clothes, cheered on his son loudly, much to Chris' embarrassment. It didn't help that Chloe and Oliver were just as bad. The day was fun, and Uncle Ollie brought his second youngest, Winnie, who was one of Sophie's best friends and finishing up at UoT.

While everyone caught up, Uncle Ollie hauled Vivian with him to get food and talk about how serious she was about being a police officer. "I'm sorry I won't get to watch you," he lamented, but told her she would be great. So did Dov, who promised to treat her like any other rookie if she landed in Fifteen. Naturally Gail teased that he wouldn't be Sergeant that long. The news spread through their little world like wildfire.

So when, on Sunday, grandma Elaine showed up, Vivian was shocked that her grandmother really did flip out. There was shouting, mostly between Gail and Elaine, about how the Peck part of it was stupid and reckless. Gail, as promised, took the brunt of the flack, telling her own mother off, that Vivian wasn't Elaine's kid and it wasn't Elaine's choice or business. After a half hour, Holly suggested Vivian make a break for it.

It was stunning. She'd never seen her grandmother actually mad or pushy or a bully, even though she'd heard it talked about from everyone. The moment Elaine turned to her and shouted that Vivian had no idea what she was talking about, and how it would eat her alive, Gail forcibly grabbed her own mother's wrist and informed her she could go the hell home. Holly stood between Elaine and Vivian, arms crossed, but deadly silent. It was terrifying.

Eventually, Elaine quieted down enough to try a more impassioned plea that it was a terrible idea. But Holly insisted it was Vivian's decision and they supported her. Gail hit her most angry, something Vivian had seen once before when she'd been in the car with Gail when a rookie cop had nearly broadsided some civilians (and Gail) in a misguided car chase. Unlike that time, when Holly had soothingly calmed Gail down when they got home, her other mother made no move to intervene, muttering that some Peck versus Peck showdowns were a long time coming.

After Elaine left, then Holly gently told Gail to sit down and breath.

"Sorry," grimaced Gail as she sat on the couch. She looked up at Vivian, a little shaken. "Are you okay?"

"Jesus, Mom!" Vivian tugged at her hair, wishing it was as short as Gail's for a moment. She'd worn it short for years, but grown it out since high school... She couldn't remember why. "Are _you_ okay? What the hell was with that? I can't believe grandma lost her shit!"

As one, Gail and Holly replied, "I can."

Vivian blinked a few times. Wow. You didn't know a lot about your own family sometimes. "Why is she so anti-Peck?"

Gail leaned back against the couch, pushing the heels of her hands into her eye-sockets. "Oh, Monkey, you don't get to be this broken without a seriously jacked family. Why do you think we don't really talk to a lot of other Pecks?"

"Hey," frowned Holly. "You are not broken." She rapped her knuckles on Gail's head.

"Fucked up?"

With a scowl, Holly didn't argue that. "You're fine. Just try to relax." Gail snorted, but looked like she was concentrating on breathing. "Your grandmother… made some bad choices."

Sounding calmer, Gail added, "She fucked up a lot of things, screwed up me making detective, and I got her fired."

"Oooooookay," Vivian blinked more and sat down on Gail's favorite chair. "Is _that_ why it was all weird when … Oh." Oh. Of course they were thinking about that stupid Ebola thing. That was when Grandma Elaine started hanging out with them more often, and Holly kept saying it was weird and creepy. She stared at her parents, watching Holly watch Gail sadly. God, no wonder Gail always said she was screwed up. "I'm okay, Mom," Vivian said firmly, reaching over to put her hand on her mother's knee. "And I still want to be a Peck."

"Well she's crazy like you," muttered Holly, though she fondly ran a hand through Gail's hair.

"Weird like you," smiled Gail, not opening her eyes, but she took her hands away from her face. One hand reached up to find one of Holly's while the other covered Vivian's on her knee. "I'll be okay, Viv. She just pushes my buttons."

Holly sighed. "She installed them. My mom does the same thing." The biggest fight Vivian had ever seen between Holly and Grandma Lily had to do with a fantasy football league. Different parenting styles poked different buttons.

Squinting one eye open, Gail regarded Vivian, "God, if I ever do that to you, please tell me I'm acting like my mother."

"So… chanting McGill in my bedroom at six in the fucking morning?"

Her parents had the grace to look chagrined. "Come on, you were agonizing over that application, you dork," laughed Gail, looking a little better.

Smiling, Holly leaned against the back of the couch, draping her arms around Gail's neck. "You know we don't care where you go, honey."

"Or if you go," amended Gail. "Honest. You can skip and go right to the academy if you want."

"We just want you to be happy." Holly smiled that sweet, slightly goofy smile that made a person feel better. "Personally too."

Vivian sighed and slouched in the chair. "I don't know. It's stupid. I mean, it's not even a thing." She waved one hand and slide down further in the seat.

Sounding thoughtful, Gail asked, "Babe, how much head bashing were you doing about me when we met?"

"I forget," Holly said, far, far too quickly. Grinning, Vivian watched Gail give Holly a very suspicious look. "I _may_ have quoted 'Que Sera, Sera' to myself in the car after Frank and Noelle's wedding." Vivian knew that story and laughed.

So did Gail, though she laughed more softly. "Yeah, okay." She pointed up at Holly, "Honestly, for falling in love with straight girls, you gotta ask your mom here. All I can give you is bad advice about doing stupid things and being a shitty girlfriend."

Surprisingly, Holly nodded. "She's a better wife than a girlfriend, as it happens." She pressed her cheek to Gail's, "But you were really a good girlfriend too, honey."

God they were cute. Vivian gagged and pulled the throw pillow over her face. "I should tell her I was engaged to Nick once," laughed Gail.

"What the what?" Vivian eyed her mother, dropping the pillow. No, that wasn't a joke. "Uncle Nick? Andy's Nick? The boy scout?" Her descriptions seemed to highly amuse her mothers. "You were _engaged_ to Nick?" Vaguely Vivian was aware her mother had dated Nick, but not that they'd been engaged. It was too weird to think about her mothers with anyone but each other.

"He stood me up at the altar," Gail drawled. "Ran off to join the army. That was fun. Steve still says it was the worst family dinner in the history of ever."

Vivian was a little impressed at her mother's self control. And Elaine's, now that she'd seen the temper. "Wait, I thought you dated him when he was a rookie."

"That too," nodded Gail. "It involved tequila. I told you, you can't ask me for relationship advice. This is the only time I've gotten it right." She made a gesture of a circle, indicating the three of them. "Actually maybe she should ask Andy—"

Cutting off her mom, Vivian winced, "Can we not talk about it? It's stupid."

"You've got to pick the college pretty soon, honey," Holly reminded her, gently.

Fair point and Vivian sighed. "I want to stay in Toronto."

Gail nodded. "Then you stay in Toronto. But you're going to Europe this summer." When Vivian muttered that was fine, Gail snorted. "I can't believe this kid. Her classmates would shit themselves to get to go to Italy."

Teasing, Holly got up. "In summer with her parents?"

"Hey! We're cool parents!" There was a trace of concern when Gail said it, as if she wasn't quite sure.

Vivian smiled. "Yeah, you guys are pretty cool. Except when you're talking."

As much as she teased them, as much as they annoyed her, Vivian was very grateful to have grown up with them. She knew how lucky she was to have them as parents. Birth and chaos and choice had landed them all there.

A pillow hit Vivian squarely in the gut. "You are going to be a great cop, Viv," laughed Gail.

She hugged the pillow, "Not because I'm a Peck or your daughter either." That surprised Gail. "I'm going to be a great cop because I want to be."

Gail sighed loudly. "You know. I spent all this time trying to make sure you didn't grow up like a Peck, and here you are. A Peck."

"Pecks aren't all bad," mused Holly. "They may be assholes and violate privacy, but they did two great things. Three if we count Steve."

Snorting, Gail allowed that was being very generous. Vivian threw the pillow back. "What two things, Mom?"

Holly leaned on the couch and draped her arms around Gail from behind. "This one. I wouldn't have fallen in love if she wasn't a Peck."

"True, but I'm generally awesome." Gail smiled up at Holly, fondly.

"Humble," teased Vivian. "What's the other, Mom?"

"The other is you, Viv. They helped Oliver grease the wheels for us to adopt you and kept your grandparents off our back." Holly kissed Gail's cheek. "If you're half that kind of Peck, then you'll be twice the person everyone else is."

Gail looked surprised. "When you put it that way, maybe growing up Peck isn't so bad."

"Well. I'll take half the credit on the kid," teased Holly. "Half Stewart."

Her mothers smiled at each other and Vivian suggested, "Growing up Golly?"

They all laughed at the portmanteau.

* * *

 _I thought about Vivian's sexuality from day one. And her eventual career. She is not a lesbian because of her mothers. If it's not a biological thing, then it would have to be from latent issues with her own parents. Her father did not sexually abuse her, but there are things she's blocked out and forgotten in the 12 years since it all happened. And since she doesn't remember it (yet) you don't get to know it either. It's all locked up in her head._


	17. Mini Golf

**Chapter 16: MiniGolf**

 **Type: Drama**

 **Rating: T (foul language)**

 _The family goes to play MiniGolf and encounters bigots._

 _Timeframe is the April after Vivian turns 12, a few months before chapter 10 (Kill-Shot). Bill is still alive._

 _(In case you missed, I'm only updating this on Tuesdays right now due to work.)_

* * *

Looking up from her computer, Gail blinked a few times. "We're doing what?"

Vivian was sprawled on the couch in the office, feet on the back, head hanging off the seat cushions. It was a position only children enjoyed and made Gail realize how close their daughter was to actual teen hood. "Did Mom say miniature golf?"

"I thought she did," Gail muttered, eyeing Holly.

Her wife stood in the doorway. "The batting cages are closed, so ... MiniGolf. I thought it'd be fun."

"In what universe?" Gail saved her report and closed her laptop, amused.

"You can stay home," sassed Holly.

"You can cook dinner," retorted Gail.

"You can both stop flirting," groaned Vivian, covering her face.

Gail laughed and reached over to mess with Vivian's hair. "It's April and you want to go outside and play with sticks hitting teeny balls?" She looked at her wife and Holly had that shy look. Oh crap. The smile quirked to the side and Gail was a goner. "Fine, fine, I'll go change."

She ushered everyone out of the office, closing the door and leaving her laptop in there. Vivian was old enough and wise enough to leave it alone, so as long as she didn't have a supremely dark or confidential case, she didn't always lock it up. When Jerry's laptop had been stolen from Traci's car after his death, the force had gone over their security system. Now Gail had to use two-factor-authentication to log in. Then she had a separate system to unlock the file systems. It was a pain in the ass, but it meant she could leave the laptop in the office.

Her guns were already locked away. Out of habit, Gail locked the office and went to pull on a non work shirt. She still wore jeans to work most of the time, much as Butler did, but she'd taken to wearing nicer shirts and decent shoes. Boots without buckles. The leather jacket rarely. Gail pulled on the cool buckle boots now and grabbed the jacket. As soon as Holly spotted her coming down the stairs, her eyes lit up.

"Well hello, sexy."

"Oh god," groaned Vivian, sticking fingers in her ears.

Gail rolled her eyes and kissed Holly. "I'll drive."

Looping an arm around Vivian's neck, Gail noogied her hair as they went to the garage, getting laughter and faux struggling from her daughter. They were still a little goofy when they got to the course, making jokes. While Vivian scooted off to use the bathroom, Holly said she was going to get the balls, Gail snickered like a teenaged boy.

"You're incorrigible, Peck. Wait for Viv."

"Yes ma'am," saluted Gail.

Her phone pinged as people walked by and she read a text from Dov asking if she could give him access to some case files. The amount of work Gail could do on her smart phone was astounding. She could connect to her VPN, find the file, and send the non-confidential parts to her old roommate in minutes.

"What's up? Where's Mom?"

Gail glanced at her daughter. "Your mother is fondling the balls and sticks inside."

Vivian made a face. "You're gross. Why did anyone ever trust you with kids?"

"Hey, kids fucking love me, and you know it." She shoved her phone in her pocket.

"We put up with you," retorted Vivian. "And you need new material."

Gail snorted. "I'll go talk to Oliver. Pick up some new dad jokes."

"Mom's aren't any better," sighed the kid.

"Well that's a relief. I'd hate if Holly was better than I am at jokes."

"Do you actually know any good ones?"

Smirking, Gail said, "Go tell your mother I was a nice round ball and a firm, straight, shaft."

For a second, a brief instance, Vivian looked blank. "Oh my _god_ , you're disgusting." She slapped Gail's arm and went in to the clubhouse.

Gail didn't laugh long before her phone rang again. "Hey, Dov, I'm really out playing mini-golf."

"Oh. Wow, I thought that was a joke."

"Nah, the batting cages are closed and Holly has some ball and stick fetish." Her friend laughed. "What's up?"

"Nothing important. Just a thanks and we should do dinner again. Bring our kid over, have a grill."

That sounded nice. "Sure. Bring a cake."

"How come I have to bring cake? You're the cook."

"Fine, bring the meat and I'll grill, but I'm not playing with meat and baking."

Dov snorted. "How did you make that sound dirty?"

"It's a gift."

"Excuse me," interrupted a woman.

Gail paused and eyed her. "Yes?"

"That girl. She's the daughter of the brunette you're with?"

"Hold on," sighed Gail. "Dov, I'll call you back, alright?"

On the phone, her former roommate agreed. "Sure. Chloe's back next week, so we have time them. And thanks, I'll have the case sorted by morning."

Hanging up, Gail shoved the phone in her pocket. "Now, what's so important you've just got to get up in my face?"

The woman was taken aback but recovered, "That is her daughter then?"

"Yes," Gail bit out slowly.

"I don't think she'd appreciate the language you used in front of her daughter."

Gail opened her mouth, closed it, and frowned. There were so many ways to go with this. But she was supposed to be taking a bit of a break, enjoying some family time, and not picking fights with idiots. So Gail took a deep breath. "I'll keep that in mind," she managed as brusquely as possible.

"You're not going to tell her?"

God this woman was annoying. "No, and I wouldn't either if I were you."

They were, thankfully, saved from further conversation when Vivian galloped back over. "Gail, come on, Mom has the balls," giggled the girl. She paused and clammed up the moment she saw the stranger.

"Okay, let's go hit balls with sticks," smiled Gail, slinging an arm around her daughter and guiding her off.

Once they were clear away, Vivian asked, "Who was that?"

"Some cranky old idiot who thinks I swear too much in front of kids."

"Well you _do_ ," agreed her daughter, amused again. "Remember when Andy used to get worried about that?"

"Remember when your granddad bitched at me because you don't believe in Santa?" They both laughed.

Holly held out the putters. "Do I even want to know?"

"Rarely," smirked Gail.

Her wife rolled her eyes. "Just for that, Peck, no tips on how to use a putter."

Vivian grinned and took her putter and ball. "Don't throw it at the ball?"

Gail shoved her daughter in the shoulder, lightly. "I know how to play mini golf, thanks, assholes."

They joked their way through the first nine holes before they ran into the cranky woman again. Vivian spotted her first, elbowing Gail as the woman walked towards Holly. "Mom," she said softly.

While someone accosting Gail about behavior and maternal actions was one thing, Holly was another story. Gail rarely cared about the opinions of strangers. They meant nothing to her life. But if you ever wanted to see Holly lash out, you made a comment on the oddity of her family. "Uh, lady, you don't want to do that," cautioned Gail.

The woman glowered at her and cleared her throat. "Excuse me," she said to Holly. "I thought you should know that your friend may not be the best influence on your daughter."

Holly's face was a treat to watch. At first, she'd been politely confused. But as the words 'friend' and 'daughter' arranged themselves properly in her mind, Gail could see the disappointment and then anger grow. "Excuse me... My 'friend'?"

The woman nodded. "That bottle blonde."

Gail muttered a 'hey' under her breath. Vivian gnawed a fingernail. "Should we...?" Her whisper trailed off and Gail shook her head. Not yet.

"The blonde," repeated Holly, tightly. "I see. And why exactly is she not the 'best' influence?"

Obviously the stranger was an idiot, not reading the signs in Holly's demeanor. "That woman has quite a foul mouth. And she was making some rather crude innuendos."

Holly's face was set. "The blonde," she said again. And now the woman looked nervous. Holly pointed at Gail. "My wife made a snide remark about how lesbians are playing with balls? Did she say 'fuck'? Or was it just 'darn' or 'shoot' maybe?" The stranger opened her mouth, but Holly went on. "Unlike your apparently prudish world, my daughter lives in the real world, and if her mothers swear, she understands when and where it's appropriate and alright, because _we_ have raised her right." Holly's voice was a louder snarl now.

"Mom," hissed Vivian. She wasn't embarrassed, she was worried. And Gail knew why.

Timing was everything. Gail handed her putter to Vivian and crossed the walkway. "Hey," she said softly to Holly.

Her wife stopped, mid-rant about how their child would grow up to be an open-minded, well respected member of society, who cared about people, and stared at Gail. The fact that she'd been actually rather loud and angry seemed to sink in. She took a deep breath and pointed at the strange woman. "Leave _my_ kid and _my_ wife and _me_ alone."

That seemed to be it and Holly stomped over to Vivian, face still furious. Gail shook her head at the stranger. "I did warn you not to."

"You... You didn't say she was your daughter."

Gail frowned. "Really? That changes nothing about what you said. You know absolutely nothing and you judged."

Without waiting for a reply, Gail caught up with Vivian and Holly, the later of whom was still fuming. Vivian's hands moved, signing that Holly was on a tear. Gail replied in kind that Holly had her buttons.

"God I hate people like that," grumbled Holly, not quite under her breath.

Vivian looked worriedly at Gail, who shook her head. "You want to play the back nine or go home, Stewart?"

Holly stopped and looked back at Gail, then at Vivian, then her face softened. "I'm not going to be any fun tonight, am I?"

"Hmm. No, probably not." Gail shrugged. "I think we should try to play the back half."

While Holly looked dubious, she went along with it. As predicted, she wasn't much fun, and hit the ball a little too hard. So Gail did the only thing she could think of, and wrapped her arms around Holly, covering her hands. "What are you doing, Peck?"

"We're going to play as a team. Viv, average up our scores?"

The girl grinned, catching on. "You really think you can beat me like that, Moms?"

Holly was a little stiff but warmed up to Gail fairly quickly. There was just something about it that made you giggle, playing doubles. They swapped positions a few times, Gail being the generally less patient player so they did better when Holly held her back. Vivian teased them both, telling them how much they sucked, and just like that the day was back to normal.

Once they were home, Gail conscripted both parties to help make dinner. Vivian made the vegetables (roasted cauliflower) while Holly made a salad and Gail took on the meat dish. She'd had some leftover ends of pork from when she'd made a Roti De Porc Poele (pork casserole), and sorted out a good way to cook it.

While they waited for the food to cook, Vivian hemmed and hawed. "Mom... Can I ask..?"

There was silence and Gail looked over. The question wasn't for her. She knew from the tone that Vivian wanted to know why Holly blew up at the weirdo. Holly sat down in Gail's easy chair with a scowl. "I'm not mad at you, honey." She looked at Gail. "Either of you."

"I know," said Gail, setting the table.

Vivian looked between them. "But... I mean, she was an idiot. Why were you so mad?"

Out of the mouths of babes, thought Gail. She had an idea why, but Holly really did have a tendency to overreact when people butted up against their family make up. It had always been like that. Holly had nearly ripped the head off a dad who'd made a remark how he'd never let his kids call him by his given name. And then there was the time Matty's mom said Vivian would grow up differently and badly for having two mothers. Or the crazy woman at the grocery store who threatened to sic social services on them for immoral behavior. As Gail recalled, they'd been holding hands while seven year old Vivian had been trying to pick out ice cream.

Holly was quiet for a moment. "I don't know," she sighed.

It was generally harder to see those things from the inside. So Gail asked, "How long have you been a lesbian?"

Her wife blinked. "Uh, since forever?"

"And why didn't you think you'd ever get married or have kids?"

"Because everyone always said I had to..." She trailed off. "I'm mad because people are upset I don't fit into their box?"

"All that has to come out somewhere," shrugged Gail. She walked into the living room and leaned over the back of Holly's chair.

Holly made a face and looked up. "So this is my angry feminist rage? Lisa would be so proud."

Gail kissed her nose. "You're angry and want to defend us as a unit. I love you too." Going back to the kitchen, Gail took a moment to ruffle Vivian's head. "Make any sense to you?"

"No," muttered the girl. "She gets mad because people want her to be something?"

They had not introduced Vivian to the concept of Peckspectations. They likely never would. But Holly, who was well aware of them, made a soft sound. "Expectations are cultural too," Holly said quietly. "Societal. The world wants us to be things."

Vivian looked from Gail to Holly. "You weren't really angry at the weird lady?"

"No, just what she represented." Holly propped her feet up on the coffee table.

Their daughter was quiet for a moment. "What does Aunt BT have to do with it?"

Gail had wondered that herself but didn't ask. Her wife groaned. "When we were in college, Lisa was the angry feminist whom spelled woman with a y and got into fights with people about the patriarchy. Which, don't get me wrong, Rachel and I agree with, but she got into a lot of trouble."

Smiling, Gail filed away the idea to look up Lisa's record later. "Everyone's got a thing they just can't tolerate and lose their mind over, Viv. I'm kind of flattered your mom's is over us."

Vivian shook her head. "I'm trying to think about how venal Aunt BT was a raging man-hater."

Gail squinted, "She's evolving into SAT words."

"Who even takes the SATs, Mom?" Vivian rolled her eyes. "And it's two syllables."

"I'm blaming your mom," smirked Gail, pointing at Holly. "This is your fault."

But Holly laughed. The heaviness of her outburst washed away. Good. "She needs to be to beat your ass at Scrabble, Gail."

Gail was the reigning Scrabble campion at the house. Even though Holly could spell better, Gail was more creative with word placement. Vivian was slowly picking up on how to play properly, but her vocabulary was limited. Ironically, while Gail and Elaine trounced everyone at _Guess Who?_ , it was Holly who tended to win _Clue_ , saying it was all about statistics. As Vivian had gotten older, they moved from the simple games to ones that required planning and forethought. Or sometimes horrible thoughts, like with _Cards Against Humanity_.

"You want to play tonight?"

Holly cringed. "Please, no more games."

Smiling, Gail made up three plates. "Viv, grab the drinks?" Gail knew she'd have to make two trips anyway, so she brought Holly a deep dish of leftovers and a beer. "You keep your ass in the chair, Stewart."

With a sigh, Holly didn't argue, but she moved over to the couch. Well that was okay. Vivian brought Gail a beer and herself a glass of juice. "I say we watch a comedy," said the kid.

The formulaic nature of television made it hard to find good things to watch that all three liked. Vivian was still young enough that sitcoms were funny to her, while Gail found them boring and Holly didn't like nerds being laughed at.

"How about a movie?" Gail put her plate down and picked up the remote, bringing up their movie playlist. Everything was on the computer now. "Vivian has never seen _The Breakfast Club_."

Holly blinked. "We are failing as parents," she smiled.

"Is this a stupid movie that you guys love because you were young when it came out?"

Gail pointed the remote at Vivian. "You liked _The Princess Bride_."

The girl huffed. "I liked the book better." But she smiled. "When was it made?"

"The eighties, so give it a break."

By the end of the movie, Vivian had a half frown on her face. She'd paid close attention to the whole film, interested by it, but her final result was confusion and a frown. "Okay, I get why Mom likes it," she said as the credits ran. "This is like, Gail's Views On The World."

Gail was currently being used as a pillow by Holly, the brunette snuggled up against her. "Sure," she agreed. "More when I was a kid."

"But... They're not going to change. I mean, maybe Claire and Johnny will date to piss off her parents, but she'll totally get tired of him, or he'll get angry that she has everything and he doesn't like and then..." Vivian waved her hands. "Maybe he hits her, cause he seems like a dick. And Andrew and Allison won't last, cause she's still weird and a freak and he's got the whole Boy Scout shit to live up to. His dad will threaten to cut him out and he'll break. Or maybe his knee blows out and he turns into some has-been. And _no one_ will talk to Brian in the hall. He's still going to be suicidal. Maybe worse, how that he's tried drugs. He's got a different escape. It's ... It's depressing!"

Generally you didn't get long rants out of Vivian. Gail smiled. "That's all true."

The girl scowled, "So why the hell do you like that movie?"

"Because as a kid, you rarely see yourself in movies. You get super heroes and gifted people, but suddenly John Hughes gave us a movie about ... About us."

Vivian frowned. "Us?"

Lifting a hand, Holly sighed, "Brain." Gail kissed her shoulder and smiled. "I like that you watch it and you see people who are you and not you and ... And that even if we're all different, we've all got things in common."

Their daughter thought about that for a moment. "I don't see me there," she sighed.

"Me neither," admitted Gail, amused. "But I see parts of me. In Andrew mostly. But the Principal too."

Holly craned her neck and eyed Gail with surprise. "Vernon?"

"Yeah, I saw that as how my life would turn out. Sad and lonely and depressed, hating who I was." A warm hand cupped her cheek. Holly didn't say anything, she just gave Gail a sad look of understanding.

"Jesus, Mom, that's morbid," muttered Vivian. Then she asked, "Andrew? The jock?"

Gail sighed and turned her head to kiss Holly's hand. "His dad's expectations hit pretty close to home, sometimes." Vivian looked dubious. She didn't know that Elaine. She didn't know Bill at all, may he fuck off and keep to himself. "We're all a little bit of a lot of them."

Nodding, Holly squeezed Gail's knee. "I was never suicidal like Brian. I was kind of ... "

"Alison?" Gail suggested.

"Yeah," sighed Holly. "It was just the first time we saw ourselves."

Their daughter tilted her head. "I see me all the time, though. I mean, _all_ the time. Someone who has two really weird Moms, someone who was adopted... I'm kind of normal."

Gail laughed softly. "In a few years, kid, I will recite this conversation back to you, and you will be embarrassed."

Right now, their kid was almost a teenager who rolled her eyes. "Whatever, you're both dorks and I'm going to bed." Teen or not, they got a hug before Vivian vanished upstairs.

"So," sighed Gail. "Is the movie too dated?"

"I think our kid is a bit jaded," mused Holly, her eyes closed. As Gail gently toyed with Holly's hair, she added, "That's really nice."

Gail smiled. The movie still held up for what it was, she felt. Vivian's view, the disturbingly realistic point that while the kids did change, it was mostly superficial, was accurate. They'd all fall back into the old ways, succumbing to peer pressure and teen angst. But that too was a part of life. _The Breakfast Club_ gave kids a moment of seeing themselves and seeing others. It reinforced their points of view while giving them comfort to know they weren't alone.

The weight of Holly in her arms grew a little as her wife relaxed more. "Come on, my sexy nerd. We should go to bed."

"Bender," replied Holly, nonsensically.

"Huh?" Gail eyed Holly, confused.

"You're Bender with Emilio Estevez's parents." She sat up and stretched. "You hate people and used to attack first when you think they might hurt you."

Gail frowned. "Well..."

"And," went on Holly, with her ramble tone in place. "And you're like Claire, since you're totally a princess, but really your parents tried to play each other using you and Steve as a pawn. Which I still hate, by the way. And you think you're a basket case like Ally Sheedy, but you're not. You just .. You _are_ that whole movie, honey," said Holly with an explosive sigh. "And where it's totally predictable and expected, you are anything but, and I wish I could go back in time and make your life less painful."

Maybe that was where Vivian got her odd penchant for monologues. Gail smiled at Holly and sat up to kiss her wife. "I don't," she said quietly. "Because I might not have gotten to meet you and be with you."

Holly looked momentarily dubious, but when Gail kissed her again, she smiled and leaned in. "I am fond of the today you," admitted Holly. Her lips were soft against Gail's.

"That's good," she smiled. There were a hundred other things Gail could say. She could tell Holly how much she loved the today Holly, or how she was only the today Gail because of her. But really all she wanted was to pull Holly back towards her and kiss her. So she did that, drawing Holly's head down and settling back on the couch to kiss without any destination or path save to remind each other that they liked here.

After a while, Holly sighed and settled her head against Gail's shoulder. "Can I sleep here?"

"Here on me or here on the couch?"

"Both." Holly snuggled closer.

The more Holly settled in, the less Gail wanted to move either. "What happened the last time we fell asleep on the couch?"

Holly made an unhappy noise. The last the they'd fallen asleep, cuddling, on the couch, their daughter had taken a photo and texted their mothers _and_ Oliver. Their mothers were bad enough. Lily had the photo in her slideshow digital photo frame, while Elaine printed it up and stuck it to her fridge. But Oliver, oh that man had shown it to everyone at their Christmas party.

"That's your fault," grumbled Holly, getting up. "The devious nature is all you."

"I'll take it," Gail laughed. She followed Holly up the stairs, flipping off the lights as she went. "Hey, Stewart?"

"Hmm?" Holly paused at Vivian's door, which was open a crack.

Smiling, Gail sang softly. "Don't you forget about me."

There was a start and then Holly giggled. "You're a dork, Peck." She shook her head and looked in the kid's room.

Gail wrapped her hands on Holly's waist and peered in. Per usual, Vivian was curled up in the corner, the blanket shoved half off. She was too old for them to go in and fix the blanket now. Twelve year olds were nearly teenagers. It seemed so fast to have gone from the quiet and scared six year old to this taciturn and thoughtful pre-teen. She reached past Holly and pulled the door closed. "I think we did okay."

"Yeah?" Holly sounded unsure. "She thinks _The Breakfast Club_ is depressing."

"She'd write a great essay on it." Gail kissed Holly's shoulder and tugged her away from the door. "We raised a kid who thinks."

Holly sighed. "She's so ... I know she said she's normal and she sees herself everywhere. But that stupid woman tonight. I don't want her to live in a world where people give her shit because of us."

Guiding Holly to their room at the end of the hall, Gail thought about that. "We can't protect her from everything, Holly."

"I know, I know." Holly grumbled. "But she's already had so much shit."

"And she saved us from lesbian bed death," pointed out Gail. They both smirked. "Two moms, in the grand scheme of things, is the most normal thing about her life."

Accepting that, Holly closed their door and started to change for bed. "Just keep in mind, Gail, that child may be the only person on the planet who thinks you're normal."

And Gail smiled. She could live with that.

* * *

 _Holly does not like having her family unit picked apart. And no, Vivian never really LIKES the Breakfast Club, which earns her a rant from Chloe later on in life and she just eye-rolls a lot at her aunt.  
_


	18. Mom

**Chapter 18: Mom**

 **Type: Family**

 **Rating: T**

 _Prompt:_ _"_ _I love that Vivian calls Gail and Holly 'mom' sometimes. I hope that's a side story because I feel like that would be emotional to have your adopted kid call you that for the first time. Would love a glimpse into their brains to see what they were thinking/feeling when that happened for the first time._ _"_

 _Timeframe is between chapters 80 and 81 of_ _"_ _Out With The Old_ _" —_ _a little while before they pick up the Aston Rose case._

* * *

Gail sat on the hood of her car, watching the kids play in the school playground. She could make out her own mini-human, sitting on the top of the big slide with Olivia behind her and, presumably, Matty on the ground. Holly leaned against the car beside her and laughed. "She's been up there a while."

"She'll go," said Gail, firmly.

"It looks steep if you're six."

"It looks steep and short if you're thirty."

Holly reached over and poked her leg. "Goof."

Grinning, Gail pointed and they watched as Vivian went down the big slide, landed, and raced around to to it again. Holly laughed softly and Gail checked her watch. It was getting past time. "You wanna go get her?"

"Lazy." Holly kissed her and checked the traffic before heading over to the schoolyard. November was being really nice after the shit-tastic October. The snows hadn't really started yet and the chill wasn't horrible. It was that middling 'about to be winter' feeling in the air where Gail could smell the cold but not quite feel it yet.

Her watch buzzed with an alert that she was 'on point' starting next week. One of Butler's new moves was to rotate which of his detective pairs was taking the lead for any new, high profile, cases. Gail and John had the last week of November and the first week of December, which would shortly be followed by a vacation to Vancouver.

She really needed a break. Even though Holly was back home and, now, back at work, Gail felt the pressure to keep the house in order and make things easy for her wife. It was possible she was making the pressure up on her own, but … But. She was supposed to be doing _something_ , right?

Gail sighed and slid off the hood of her car as Holly escorted Vivian back across the street. "Hi, Monkey," she grinned.

"Hi. Are we going to the batting cages?"

"This is your fault, Stewart," faux growled Gail, much to the amusement of the other two. "Yes, we're going to the stupid batting cages." She didn't actually mind at all. She liked the after-batting-cages a little more, when she got to pay attention to naked Holly in a sort of weirdly non-sexual way.

That was weird.

Gail couldn't remember ever having that happen before with anyone, but she really liked being around Holly all the time, and touching her. That was normal. The abnormal was that it didn't always have to be sex related.

One of Gail's hangups was certainly not nudity. But it was just different. Normally when she was naked around someone she liked being naked with, there were naked things going on. This was just new naked things. And she liked it.

After making sure Vivian was buckled in, Holly slid in. "Your bark is getting weak, Peck," smirked Holly.

"Shaaaadddup," laughed Gail. "What do you guys want to do for dinner? We've got steak at home."

Vivian piped up, "Fried chicken?"

It was time consuming, but possible. "If we get home early enough, sure," offered Gail.

Holly snorted. "Now you're just trying to kill our fun. No fair!"

"Hey, you can cook." Immediately Holly backpedaled. Gail had accidentally taken over most of the cooking in the household, which she found she actually kind of enjoyed. Cooking was fun. The reason she did the majority of the cooking was less fun. It had started in October.

The ended up only spending a little while at the batting cages, through no fault of Gail's. The centre's heater went out, sending everyone home as it quickly got too cold at night. Vivian took advantage of the situation by pointing out it gave Gail enough time to make really good fried chicken that was better than the restaurant Uncle Oliver took her too.

Glancing back, Holly asked, "What restaurant did Oliver take you to?"

"KFC. When Gail had to stay late in her meeting and you were at the doctor's."

Holly had been at her therapist's actually, but that was close enough. "Really, Gail? KFC?"

"I had nothing to do with that," frowned Gail. "KFC is kinda gross, Viv."

"I didn't like it," agreed the child.

Awesome. She was turning her kid into a food snob. For all that Gail could (and would) eat just about anything, she really did like good food. "Fine. Fried chicken. Greens. Salad."

"Potatoes?" Vivian absolutely loved potatoes.

Gail rolled her eyes. "Potatoes."

Holly snickered. "Whipped."

"You're not helping," sassed Gail and she poked Holly's shoulder.

Once they were home, Vivian was enlisted to help with the potatoes, heavily supervised of course. Holly took charge of the knife, Vivian was tasked with seasoning, and Gail was busy with the chicken.

It was a night like all the others. When Holly flicked flour at Gail and Vivian laughed at them, it was a silly moment of brightness. These were the moments when Gail loved being a family. They goofed around until Gail caught Holly's waist and hauled her in for a hug and a kiss while the chicken sizzled in the pan.

After dinner, and cookies, Vivian announced she was going to bed as soon as the reality show about baking was over.

"Need to be tucked in?" Gail was trapped under Holly, holding her snug.

"Nah."

"Shower please," said Holly.

"Okay, night Moms." And she thudded up the stairs to her room.

Gail stared at the stairs. Neither she nor Holly said a thing until they heard the shower turn on. "Did... Did she...?"

"Moms?"

That was what Gail thought she heard. "Well. We are."

They had signed all the paperwork after all. And they'd been to a judge and had a party even to celebrate (that was Oliver's fault). But the one thing they hadn't done was ask Vivian to call them Mom or Mama or anything like that. The judge had actually asked Vivian what she was going to call her parents and, with a look of pure confusion replied they had names, and hadn't he read the papers he'd signed. They'd all laughed at that, even the judge. In the car on the way home, Vivian asked if she was supposed to call them something different now, and they'd insisted she could call them what she wanted.

It had moved from 'Miss Gail' and 'Miss Holly' to first names and now, apparently, to Mom.

"Wow," exhaled Holly. "Mom." She elbowed Gail. "How's that feel?"

"Horrifyingly real," Gail laughed.

One week. It had been one week from signing the papers to being called Moms. It was weird, feeling light and bubbly just from hearing a word. A name. It wasn't like the kid said she loved them, but much like she'd felt so lightheaded when Holly first said she loved her (after watching _Frozen_ ), she felt the same way now that Vivian called her, them, her moms.

The world was a little smaller. Her heart was a little bigger. She couldn't help it. Gail smiled so much her face hurt.

"Wife," said Holly softly, sitting up and turning so she could kiss Gail. "Wife. Mom. I love you very much, Gail Antonia Peck."

Sometimes Gail hated her memory. This could not be faulted to her parents and their inane requirements for success. This was a talent she'd been born with. It was useful at work, it made her a great detective and a treasure to the service.

But right now, it was annoying.

Because right now she remembered what Holly had said after that first time they'd said the words that they loved each other. That she wasn't sure she ever wanted children. And now they were moms.

The wise wife in her didn't bring it up. The wise wife of a few years now, now a co-mother, just smiled and caressed Holly's face. She wanted to thank Holly, but that would bring up the other thoughts. So Gail could only trust herself to smile more and kiss her wife softly.

"I love you too, Holly," she said softly and returned the kiss.

"Moms! I changed my mind."

Gail laughed softly and Holly shook her head. "What's up, honey?" Holly kissed Gail again and sat up.

"Can you read to me?"

Looking up at the stairs, Gail saw Vivian leaning on the rails. "Sure," she started to get up only to be amused by a correction.

"Not you, Mom. Mom."

The sentence was weird. Gail and Holly looked at each other and realized that Vivian meant Holly. How odd. "Sure," smiled Holly. "Would you let my mom know?"

Gail nodded and watched Holly head up the stairs. "Sure. Sleep well, kiddo."

"Night, Mom." Vivian took Holly's hand. "I was reading _Five Children and It_ , but I like your voices better than Gail's for this one."

The conversation became muffled and Gail realized she was smiling so hard it hurt. Picking her phone off the table, she texted Lily.

 _It's official. The kid calls us moms now. Your daughter will call you later and cry about it._

Her phone rang right away. "Hi, Lily," she chuckled.

"Out of curiosity, where is my first born?"

"Reading to the monkey. Apparently she does the voices better for Nesbit's stuff." Gail was more popular for Harry Potter.

Lily laughed. "Did you finish up the Railway books?"

"We did. We're onto the Psammead stuff now."

"You're doomed. Holly learned those voices from Brian."

That explained it. "They're great books. Thank you for them."

"We have more. You can pick them up when you're here." There was a pause. "You _are_ coming, right?"

Gail blinked. "Did Holly forget to email you? We got the tickets yesterday."

"Oh, probably not. I've not looked at my personal email all day. Busy working."

Her wife came from a family of workaholics. "I feel ya. I'm on call the week before we come up."

"Everything going well then?"

"I think so," smiled Gail. "Kid's happy, I'm happy, Holly's happy."

There was a different tone to Lily's voice. "She's okay?"

Because Holly was her daughter and could have died. Gail tried to imagine how she'd feel if it was Vivian and failed. "Seems to be," mused Gail. "She's back at work like nothing happened."

Lily exhaled loudly. It was a sound Gail recognized because she made it herself these days. That was the sound of a mother who was frustrated with her child's stubbornness. Gail made it yesterday when Vivian argued she didn't need to shower every day. Lily was making it at her grown up daughter. Lily was making it about the woman Gail loved more than she ever thought she could.

"Gail," says Lily softly. "Is she really okay?"

How strange. The question felt more weighty now than it might have a year ago. Now Gail understood all the depths and layers of that short sentence. Even though Holly was grown and out in the world and an adult with a wife and a child, she would always be Lily's baby girl. "No," said Gail honestly. "She's pushing it all away because it's not her normal."

Gail made emergency situations. Holly ran away and avoided. While she couldn't, wouldn't run away from Gail or her job, Holly was cheerfully running away from her problems.

"Well. Damn." Lily sounded resigned. "It's not fair to ask-"

"Hey. Lily? I married her."

There's a puff of a laugh that sounds just like Holly when she knows she's caught out in a cute moment. "I know, but you've been through so much."

"Comes with the Peck Territory, Lily. Besides, you raised the most wonderful person in my life. So thank you."

Lily laughed. "Gail, that's so sweet."

"I'm serious, Lily. I ... Holly is the best thing that ever happened to me. She gave me _me_ again. I didn't think I could ever- you know I didn't think I'd ever get a happy ending in anything. But she makes me a better person." Gail sat up a little. "So while I totally get the whole guilt and fear thing about being a mom now, you did an amazing job."

There was silence on the phone. "Holly said you could just... You could deliver these moments where you make her heart stop."

Something good had to come out of Gail's abject terror of public speaking. She'd been forced into speech classes for years and knew how to do it, she just hated it. But neither Holly nor Lily were public. They were family. "I love your daughter, Lily. You're going to have to get used to that."

Lily laughed. "I'll work on that."

Gail smiled. Then she asked a related question. Related in her mind at least. "How'd you know when you got it right? As a parent?"

"With Holly? About ten seconds ago," Lily said dryly. They both laughed a little. "You don't ever really know for sure until they're out on their own and people tell you how amazing they are."

Gail sighed. "I wish that was longer away than it was."

Sometimes she really did wish they'd adopted Vivian much earlier. But, like with Sophie when Gail had tried to adopt her, Gail had always a soft heart for kids that were a little older. The age when you understand what you should have had and what you lost.

"You got her when she needed someone the most," remarked Lily. "And you two are the parents she needs."

"I guess. I just worry."

"You should get used to that feeling."

"Thanks," laughed Gail. But it did make her feel better. "She liked you, you know. She said you were like Holly but in a different way."

Lily made a pleased noise. "I do wonder what she'll make of Brian. What should I tell him?"

Even Lily didn't know all the details. "What you know is fine. The rest… We're leaving that up to her right now."

Much of it was too complicated to explain, some was still being discovered, and Gail had a lingering suspicion that Vivian had seen more than she currently remembered. But just like sometimes a memory of Perik worked its way out of the abyss, Vivian's brain would store those things until she was ready to process.

At least, that was what Gail's therapist felt. Gail wasn't too sure there wasn't something actually wrong with her (not Viv). Vivian was six, going on seven. Processing what she'd seen was still going to be a long journey. Right now, Gail and Holly probably knew more about that day than Vivian remembered.

"Alright," Lily agreed. "Just take care of yourself, too, dear. You're family."

"You too. We'll see you soon."

Gail hung up and dropped her phone onto the coffee table. She was part of another family. How come that didn't hurt like her own did? Even with Elaine coming around like she was, it still felt … weird. Was this what you were supposed to think of when you thought of family? People who wanted you to be happy and wanted to make you feel better?

The creak of the floorboards alerted her to Holly's presence. Then a gentle hand fluffed her hair. Gail sighed and asked Holly, "Why do you like playing with my hair?"

"I like touching you," she replied. "I heard what you told Mom."

Gail tilted her head and looked up. "All of it?"

"The part where I'm the best thing that ever happened to you."

"You know that," chided Gail, taking Holly's hand and pulling it so she could kiss it.

"It's nice hearing you tell my mom that." Holly smiled and nudged at Gail until she scooted over, making room on the couch. It was easier to be cuddled like this, used as a pillow, than it was for Gail to give up and admit she needed comforting. Most of the time. "Looking forward to the trip?"

"I could use a break," admitted Gail quietly.

"We'll do that, then. I'm taking you snow hiking this time." Holly laughed as Gail groaned. "And after, we'll get hot showers and drink Dad's hot buttered rum, light on the butter, and have Christmas."

Gail smiled and let her fingers run up and down Holly's back. "Okay, Mom."

Holly squeezed her for a moment. "Mom." She sounded like she was smiling. "We probably shouldn't make a big deal about it."

"I agree," replied Gail. "What'd you say upstairs?"

"Nothing. I just made sure she actually did shower."

That was such a weird thing. The kid hated showers. "She didn't do the thing where she ran the water and pretended to get in, did she?" While that had been frustrating, it was also hilarious.

"No," laughed Holly. "But she didn't wash behind her ears." Which meant Holly attacked with a washcloth. "She did complain and call me Mom again, though," she added, with a certain amount of trepidatious delight.

It might take a while to get used to being called that, but Gail felt delighted. Mom. "Feels nice."

"It's right there next to 'wife' in my book."

Gail blushed. "Well. This sexy woman proposed to me."

Humming happily, Holly patted Gail's stomach. "And you said yes. Which still surprises me."

"Surprises you? You know I love you!"

"I do, but I know you hate marriage."

"Weddings," groaned Gail. "I hate weddings. And, help me, our mothers may start colluding to make us have one, one of these days."

Holly chuckled. "I asked them not to."

Sighing, Gail closed her eyes. "Thank you."

"Welcome." Holly's weight grew heavier as she relaxed more. "I think we got it right."

Gail cracked an eye and squinted down her nose at the dark head on her shoulder. "It?"

"All of it."

"Way to up the bar," grimaced Gail.

"Hey, we'll still fuck up and make mistakes, but we got it right. You and me. Wives. Moms. You make me better, Gail. We make us better."

They were simple words. Small words. Words that, together, didn't mean all that much. But in that moment, that second where they were the words said by her wife, lying on their couch, having put their kid to bed, it suddenly felt alright. They finally did get it right, and while this was another start to another chapter of life.

It was a strange feeling. Equal parts terror and peace ran through Gail's heart, squeezing it so hard it made it feel difficult to breath. This was where it started.

"Okay, now I'm scared," she muttered.

Holly didn't reply for a moment. Then in a quiet voice, she allowed, "Me too."

But this was a weird fear. It was alright to be afraid now because this fear failure was totally different than when she'd been scared of screwing up as a rookie. This meant there was something real, something serious not to want to ruin. This was a good fear. Like the pain from her broken ribs, back when the car had blown up, reminded her she was alive, this fear reminded her that she had the wonderful things in life that were worth having.

Gail sighed and pressed her face to Holly's head. "Okay."

Her wife laughed softly, but seemed to understand. "Yeah," she laughed. "We're okay. We're moms now."

* * *

 _Perhaps not what you were asking for, but that is what happened._


	19. Young Peck in Love

**Chapter 19: Young Peck In Love**

 **Type: Family / Romance**

 **Rating: K**

" _What happened with Viv and Liv!?_ _"_

 _I predicted this question._

 _This happens shortly after chapter 16 -_ _"_ _Growing Up Peck_ _"_

* * *

"What happens next?" Vivian tossed her water bottle up in the air.

"I go to Montréal and you stay in Toronto." Liv drummed her heels on the wall, watching people run by.

"And I'm going to be a cop."

"And I am totally not."

They looked at each other and Viv struggled not to blush. Thank god she wasn't as pale as Gail. "I'll miss you," she finally managed to say, eyes downcast.

Liv was quiet for a moment. "You know, you're weird, Viv." That was nothing new. A lot of people said that to her. "How long have we known each other?"

"Since we were six."

"So twelve years. And I still don't think I know anything about what's going on in your head."

Ah. That. Vivian looked at her friend and sighed. "You know a lot," she argued.

It was true, but that wasn't what Liv meant and she knew it. What Liv meant was that Viv didn't tell people what she was thinking or feeling. And Viv had never explained why she hated spending the night at anyone else's. They talked about all sorts of things, boys and entertainment and family thoughts and futures. They did not talk about Vivian's past.

That meant that Liv knew that Viv never slept over, but not why. Vivian was fairly sure that Liv's parents knew the story, but her best friend did not. Liv knew that, like Sophie, Vivian had been adopted. That her birth parents were dead. And that was enough.

Liv eyed her, but sighed and changed the subject. "Are you going to the dance?"

Vivian looked blank. "Dance?"

"That's a no," smiled Liv. "I'm going as Matty's beard, you should come."

"Eh. I hate dances." Though she was surprised to hear Liv was going to be Matty's date. "I thought you were seeing what's his name."

Her best friend shook her head. "Didn't I tell you? We broke up a couple weeks ago. I wasn't into him."

And yet she'd been all up in him. Girls were weird. "Am I supposed to say I'm sorry?"

"You didn't like him," Liv said matter-of-factly.

Vivian shrugged. "I did not, no."

Their coach shouted at them, interrupting their conversation, and sending them both running laps. It was a welcome respite, because the other option was explaining to her best friend that she had a crush on her.

After her parents found out (or in Gail's case, admitted they'd suspected), nothing much had really changed. True, Holly had told her that it was fine to have a crush on people she knew, but to remember she was only eighteen. And yes, Gail had a rather frank chat about having feelings for your friend could be a little awkward. But for the most part, her parents didn't treat her any differently. Vivian imagined if she'd had feelings for Matty (and he was straight), it would have been the same.

Still, talking to your crush about her ex-boyfriend wasn't really fun. It reminded Vivian of the story Uncle Nick told about being Aunt Andy's breakup buddy over Sam. Twice. Vivian still didn't really understand why Andy went back to Sam all those times, but at least she and Nick were at some sort of weird, stable, relationship. They'd only moved in together when Vivian was in middle school.

Of course, that was less weird than the recent revelation that her _mother_ had been engaged to Nick. Gail had, eventually, told Vivian the whole story, including the part about how Steve took her out to see strippers that night. That had been news to Holly, who teased Gail about it for days. Somehow though, Gail had navigated dating friends and keeping them as friends. At least two of them. One was in jail, and boy that had been a weird thing to find out.

Then Holly. Holly had a fantastically shitty track record of breaking up and never talking to her exes. Her moms were different people, and it showed. Sometimes Vivian wondered which one she'd be like when she was done growing up. She felt like she was a lot of both of them, but sometimes it was hard to see where she was and where they were…

And where her birth parents were.

At least she knew that the self-sabotage behavior was probably a Peck thing.

Vivian sighed and tried to ignore all that as she ran. That's probably why Holly liked it so much. It help clear out her thoughts. Gail still thought it was stupid. Gail also did yoga and had voluntarily taken some of the hot yoga classes. There was a reason for that, though. Apparently being kidnapped by a serial killer could make someone a little edgy.

Ugh. Could you live life without damage? Did anyone exist without some? Probably not. It made a person wonder what secrets everyone else hid.

* * *

Many things were normal.

Many things were the same.

And a great many things were annoying.

Vivian made a mental note to detail out exactly why having a cop and a doctor as your parents sucked at her next therapy appointment, because dear god, it did suck. And having your grandmother be a retired office didn't help either.

"I'm sorry," Elaine said as soon as Vivian opened the door.

"Uh… Okay?" She stepped back and let her grandmother in. It was the first time Elaine had been by since the big blow out where she and Gail had an out and out screaming match about Vivian's future.

Elaine looked at Vivian, frowned, and looked over her shoulder. "You didn't explain?"

"Not all of it," sighed Gail, pulling the fresh bread out of the oven. "Didn't seem fair without you around."

"So I can give my side?"

"Hey, there's always more than one side to a story, Mom."

The two women frowned at each other. "Well. Where's Holly?"

"Mom's on the phone with the lab." Her other mother signed, asking if Vivian would go get Holly. That was probably to have a moment to talk with Elaine alone. So Vivian rushed up the stairs and then lingered outside the open office door.

Inside, Holly was talking brusquely with someone. "I really don't care. We have process and protocol and order for reasons. If you need a refresher in the law, I'm happy to give you leave to study." Holly's eyes were closed as she listened. "Yes, that's exactly what I mean. If you need a break, we can arrange it. But this shit, this half assing around, it stops now. So does this calling me at home on the weekend over trivial bullshit. Let them do their jobs. Do yours. We'll talk tomorrow."

Her mother was annoyed. Both her mothers were annoyed. Awesome. "Elaine's here."

Holly groaned and tossed her phone onto her desk. "Fuck," she muttered. "I am not prepared to deal with your mother after a round with Elaine."

"Sorry," sighed Vivian.

Her mother's head popped up. "You have nothing to be sorry for. It's just ... Well. We should have told you sooner."

"Oh god," deadpanned Vivian. "I'm adopted."

Holly tried to keep serious, but her lips curved and then she laughed. "Oh my god, Vivian, I adore you." The medical examiner slung an arm around Vivian's shoulders. "Even if you're going to be taller than I am."

"Someone has to keep you two in check," she smiled. "Come on, let's go stop World War Peck."

"Sweetie, you have no idea."

And as the night progressed, Vivian was appalled to learn why the tension had sprung up. That for generations the Pecks had held a tight control over Toronto policing, and Elaine had essentially been a willing pawn. No, Gail had been a pawn. No... None of that was right. Elaine was a willing bishop, following the lines and crossing paths. Gail was a knight, moving where she wanted in patterns that made sense later, but seemed haphazard at the time.

And the adoption of Sophie had been foiled by, of all people, Gail's own father.

The history of it all, the deep seated agony of the pain the Pecks had caused each other, was what Elaine was trying to protect Vivian from. The backbiting and the stabbing and the hatred and the infighting. Pecks were evil and vicious.

"But," grimaced Vivian as she rubbed her temples. "But you aren't those Pecks."

Elaine sighed. "We aren't now. But if you do this-"

"She's already a Peck, Mom," Gail cut in.

"If you do this," repeated Elaine, pointing a finger at Gail but looking at Vivian. "Then you will be a Peck. And that means you will have to navigate those waters."

Vivian eyed Gail. "That's why she's mad?"

"She's mad I'm letting you do this."

"I'm mad you even considered letting her do this unprepared," corrected Elaine.

Gail rolled her eyes. "She's eighteen, Mom. She has four years, maybe five, before she has to cope with this. That's more than enough time. And she may change her mind. God, you know I wanted to be a teacher." Her mother and her grandmother glared at each other for a moment. Then Gail capitulated. "Fine. You have a point."

"It's unfair." Elaine leaned back. "And you hate people. You'd have been a terrible teacher."

"That doesn't mean I have to be a cop, just because I'm a Peck," countered Gail. "And it doesn't mean Vivian has to either."

Vivian blinked. "Are you mad that I'm a Peck or that I want to be a cop?"

"Neither," Gail said immediately. "And … Yes. To both. I'm _terrified_ of you being a Peck and a cop. One or the other…" She sighed loudly.

Holly patted Gail's hand. "She didn't tell you why, honey," said the doctor, softly. Gail arched her eyebrows and Holly tilted her head at Vivian.

Oh. That meant she was supposed to tell them now. "You know," she said carefully. "You know how people doodle stupid names in their notebooks?" Vivian glanced at Gail who was nodding curiously. "I used to doodle mine. As, um, as Peck and Stewart. Peck-Stewart, which sounded terrible. Stewart-Peck. Kinda better… And I thought. I thought that I could be me, but better." She swallowed a dry throat. "Because you went through a whole … a lot of shit. And you're still here."

And Gail looked instantly guilty. "Holly…"

"Hey, no." Holly kissed Gail's cheek. "It's not your fault."

"I know, but—"

Holly put a finger on Gail's mouth, silencing her. "No. Viv, tell her the other thing."

"The… That she's kinda my hero?"

Gail turned and stared. "What?"

"You're mine too," said Holly, smiling. "You went through all that shit, and you're still here. You're with me and Viv. And you are why I was never really scared when I was sick."

The blush that crossed Gail's face and neck was different. It wasn't embarrassed. It was shy and abashed and confused. "Oh. It's not like… I didn't do it on purpose."

"Yes you do," said Holly, this time her voice was firm. "Every day you chose to get up and put on the badge and go out there. You are brave. Loyal. Dependable. And a hero. Okay?"

"Okay." Gail sighed and glanced at Elaine. "This is your fault."

Elaine just smiled. "I know. It was the only thing I could give you, sweetheart. I couldn't stop the others from hating you or treating you like that, but I could give you that."

Begrudgingly, Gail muttered. "Thanks."

"You know I'm very proud of you. For everything." Elaine hesitated and reached over.

Gail shrugged and reached over to awkwardly squeeze Elaine's hand. "Thank you." The moment passed quickly.

"I have a question." Vivian frowned. "What the hell is wrong with Mom being _smart_?"

Beside her, Holly laughed and then covered her mouth. "I'm sorry," whispered Holly, as Gail and Elaine both scowled. "I really have never understood that either."

That made Vivian feel a lot better. "It just is so weird. She's crazy smart at languages and memorizing and ... Why the hell would anyone try to stop that? Why are they stupid?"

"Harold," sighed Elaine.

The humor on Holly's face washed away. "Oh."

Gail just looked confused. "My asshat grandfather?" She frowned and eyed Holly. "Why do you know this?"

"I told her." Elaine stared at her hands. "Harold hit your brother. Once. And I'm fairly certain your father and uncle."

Never before had Vivian seen Gail wiped of emotion. She never wanted to see it again. Gail just went blank. Not even when Bill died had this happened. But right there, Gail's face emptied and she stared flatly at her mother. Vivian opened her mouth but Holly stayed her voice with a look. No. Holly mouthed the word and waited.

Finally Gail spoke, quietly but fiercely. "He hit Steve?" Elaine nodded. Turning slightly, Gail studied Holly's face. Much to Vivian's surprise, she didn't ask why Holly knew and Gail hadn't. Gail just reached over and took Holly's hand, her face slowly forming a frown. "Well that explains a hell of a lot," sighed Gail.

"I don't know why I never connected it," muttered Holly.

"Well, you're not a cop, baby," sighed Gail, leaning against Holly momentarily. "It's not a sensible puzzle. Lemme guess, Mom. Steve's normal, which meant it was your fault, even though he's twice the cop Dad ever was. And ... I was book smart but he couldn't see how that would be a cop thing. So you ... You and Steve made sure he never laid a hand on me by keeping me at arms length, which screwed me up, but made me a fucking awesome cop."

Elaine looked amused and sad. "Jokes on him, isn't it?"

"It's not funny at all, Mom."

"It's really not, no." And yet in a moment, the adults were laughing.

Vivian sighed. "You do not make any sense."

Holly kissed Gail's cheek. "They don't, honey."

Elaine wiped her eyes. "Vivian, sweetheart, everyone's going to think you took the name Peck because you want to be special."

"I … what?" She stared at her grandmother and then her mothers. "People will think I did it because … I want the easy road?" That made no sense to her.

Gail looked confused. "Wait, you think that, Mom?"

"You grew up in it, Gail," Elaine said with a sad sigh. "You knew what Peck meant, but you knew what was expected of you. Like it or not."

The blonde oh'd softly. "Like Bibby."

"Like Bibby. Like picking family. Like being picked first for things just because your name is a very, very, powerful name in Toronto policing."

Vivian looked between them. "Still?"

"Oh yes, still." Elaine nodded. "Differently but still. The deals have changed but the implications are the same."

Vivian felt suddenly horrified. "Are we dirty cops?"

The adults laughed. "No, honey," said Holly, kindly. "They're very much not. It just has to do with things like … well. Like why Elaine was so mean to me when I first met her."

"Oh heavens, Holly. No. That was not part of the deal. I just needed to make sure Gail had someone in her corner beforehand. I didn't want to leave her alone again." To Vivian, Elaine explained, "In order to divorce Bill with minimal fuss, there were some... Eh, there were some allocations to be made. Including sacrificing Gail and Steven."

"Which she didn't actually do," noted Gail. "She let me think she'd screwed up my adoption of Sophie _and_ she spiked my initial transfer to Major Crimes."

"The latter was the deal." Elaine shook her head. "But that's why I was ... That's why I treated you both like I did. I had to make sure you'd be angry enough to fight back. So that I could lose and you would survive."

Gail shook her head. "Which blows my mind, Mom."

The elder Peck sighed. "That's the Peck game, sweetheart." And Elaine gestured at Vivian. "After failing to arm you properly, how could I let you make that mistake with Vivian."

Vivian expected to see her mothers bristle, but they both looked rather resigned. "Armed? You mean the whole blackmail to do shit is still going on?"

Scratching the back of her head like she did when she was awkward, Gail nodded. "They don't screw with me much anymore. I've got too much clout between Organized Crime and the whole LGBT stuff." She sighed.

Elaine grimly pointed out, "You will be both fair game and a way for them to try and get Gail back under their thumb."

It never once occurred to Vivian that she would be used against her mother. "No! No way, no how. I'm not ever doing that!"

Surprisingly, Holly spoke up. "Gail did." Vivian stared. "Gail took her mother to IA and helped them take her, and ... Was it four others?"

"Five," said Gail and Elaine as one.

"Five other Pecks ended up getting retired early. Not to mention the ones she helped Frank with a few years ago."

The mind boggled. "But they were... They were the evil Pecks?"

"Mark wasn't," mused Gail. "Tabitha wasn't either."

The names struck a chord. Mark Peck. Tabitha Peck. She'd met those two, more than once, at various functions. Vivian recalled liking them. "Is that why they don't come over?"

"Tab's too embarrassed, which is fair," Gail sighed. "Obstruction of Justice, in the Name of Peck. She knew it was wrong-"

"Gail," snapped Elaine, and the voice hit the whole table hard. Vivian's head snapped back in shock. That was a voice you did not argue with.

"Oh _that's_ who you learned that voice from," muttered Holly, apropos of nothing.

Gail shook her head. "She's already in, Mom."

To her credit, Elaine looked apologetic. "She's family..."

"Yes, Mom. She's family."

Somehow Vivian got they feeling they weren't talking about her. But before she could ask, Gail explained how Tabitha had hidden evidence and subverted how it was acquired, in order to make a few arrests that were certainly just, but not very legal. Best intentions. Road to hell. Mark, on the other hand, felt that any method used, as long as you didn't get caught, was acceptable.

It was a lot of information. On the plus side, Vivian wasn't moping about Liv right now. She cleared her throat. "Why don't you want me to be a cop, Elaine?"

Her grandmother raised her hand and waved it, just like Gail did. Or Gail did like Elaine. "All that. Vivian, all the horrible things Pecks do, and will likely always do, are why I've been in therapy for years. They're why your mother is. I don't want to do that to you. And I don't want to see people treat you like they treated Gail, just for having a name." Elaine sighed. "And like it or not, people _will_ see you differently. They will see you as not Vivian, but as a Peck. In good and bad ways. Someone will think you did it to jump the system, to be above the others. And someone will treat you unfairly because they'll assume your mother will bend the rules for you. And you will be very much alone, sweetheart, and you're alone far too much already."

Never before had Vivian heard Elaine talk like that. It was the only way the woman knew how to express her love for Gail and, by extension, Vivian. That sort of love was totally unlike the kind she saw everyone else share, but Vivian felt deeply, maybe for the first time, that Elaine really was her grandmother in all the ways that mattered. Elaine cared. She was just shittier than Gail at showing it.

This was a Holly moment. Vivian stood up, walked around the table, and hugged her grandmother. Elaine stiffened but then returned it, very awkwardly. She whispered a thank you and let go. "Elaine, Moms," Vivian stood beside the table. "I want to do this. I ... You guys took me in, you raised me, and you taught me to be a good person. But every day you give yourselves to people who hate you, spit on you, and you still serve and protect. You give back to something bigger than yourselves. And... And I want that. I want to be out there. I want to have your back too. I'm loyal, and I know who I am, and ... Well I'll probably fuck things up. But I can do this. I _want_ to do this."

The adults were silent. Holly was smiling, on the verge of tears. Elaine looked confused and pleased and scared. Gail was Gail, looking to be on that knife edge of laughter and tears. "That is not normal," Elaine finally said, pointing at Vivian but looking at Gail.

"I think that's how a Peck is supposed to be, Mom, before all the bullshit."

"That would have been a nicer environment to raise you in."

"Hmm. Would I still be me if that had happened? I'll keep what I had, Mom. It got me here." Gail turned to Holly with a soft smile. Vivian knew that smile. Gail was abashed and delighted and still, after all these years, in awe of the fact that she had Holly in her life.

Holly smiled back. "And it got us that kid." She pointed at Vivian. "I get it. The world needs people like us. Her too."

For whatever reason, Elaine looked abashed. "It's being greater than yourself."

Thank god. They understood. "Yes!" Vivian gestured at Elaine, relieved.

"I'm still mad at you, Gail, dear." Elaine noted.

"Fair enough." Gail shrugged. "I'm sorry I didn't even think about it. I was just … I think I was distracted."

Holly leaned against Gail. "She feels like a Peck, honey. Look at her."

Uncomfortably, all three adults looked at Vivian for a long, quiet moment. Finally Elaine spoke. "Alright. I will help you in any way that I can."

Which was, perhaps, the good part of being a Peck. They stuck together.

* * *

They were supposed to be doing homework. That's what they told their parents, and as far as Olivia was concerned, that's all they were doing. It was just Vivian who was awkward. And Liv noticed.

"What's up in that head, Vivi?"

Vivian made a face. "Don't call me that."

Sitting on Vivian's bed, Liv threw her book down. "Why do we have to do homework? We're already accepted into colleges."

"Mom said so they don't change their minds." Holly had a longer explanation, but frankly it had been pretty boring and Gail had been signing jokes about it the whole time.

Liv groaned and lay down. "Let 'em punt me. Don't care. I'm so fucking sick of math."

"And yet, you're going into medicine," smiled Vivian, bending her head to her math.

"You should."

Vivian frowned and looked up. "Be a doctor? No."

"Do something math. You're good at science. It'd be a waste not to use your brain." Liv shoved her books off the bed. "Seriously, you get better grades than I do at math, you actually are good at French, even though you hate it, and you're… You know, you're pretty awesome."

The blush crept up her neck. "I want to be a cop, Liv." It was the only thing she'd known with certainty for the majority of her life. There was only one point, one fact, that she clung to unwaveringly. Vivian was going to be a police officer. Not like her mother, probably, but still.

"I know that, you idiot." Liv rolled her eyes.

"Elaine came over to talk me out of it."

"Didn't work?"

"Hugged her."

Liv laughed. "Well that'd shut her up! My folks don't want me to do it either. Mom actually told me not to be a cop."

Vivian closed her book. "You're going to be a doctor."

While Liv looked a little skeptical, she nodded. "Not a people doctor. And not a dead people doctor... I want to cure diseases. Like cancer."

Most of the women in Olivia's family ended up dying from breast cancer. Her aunt had a preventative double mastectomy before Olivia was born. Her mother had a cancer scare back when she and Uncle Frank had gotten married. The story of their wedding, when told by Aunt Traci, was wildly different than her Moms version. Which made sense considering Gail spent half the wedding in a closet with Holly.

"I think that's awesome," smiled Vivian.

Her best friend eyed her. "Vivian Stewart Peck."

She arched her eyebrows. Her mothers had yet to shout her new full name at her. This was one of the first times she'd heard anyone say it. "Yes?"

"What are you trying not to say?"

Vivian blinked. "What?"

"I've known you for, what, twelve years? You have _never_ tried to do small talk."

The real answer was that she was trying to avoid the subject. "Oh. I thought I should practice."

But Olivia Best, who knew her well, shook her head."You're just acting weird, Viv, which is saying a lot. Cause I gotta tell you, you've got the lock on weirdest person I know."

Vivian shook her head as well. "It's a thing, doesn't matter."

Because Olivia was going to McGill. Because Olivia had broken up with her boyfriend. Because it was just a stupid crush. Because she was terrified of losing her best friend. Because falling for your straight best friend was a cliche, and probably misdirected anyway. Because it would break her heart, and while her moms both said that heartbreak came with life, she didn't want it.

Because she was scared.

"Vivian," sighed Liv. She sat up. "We're friends."

"I know."

"And ... You've been kinda weird ever since Matty got beat up. And yes, I'm still pissed you guys didn't call me."

Vivian frowned. "That. That was Matty's call, Liv."

"So if you'd been beat up...?" Olivia tilted her head, dubious.

"I'd be testifying to keep Mom out of jail." It was a bad joke.

Liv groaned. "Would you tell me?"

Vivian looked anywhere but at Liv. "Maybe. Yes. No... I don't know."

Her friend, her best friend, made an annoyed noise, sounding just like Uncle Frank. "What the hell, then, Viv?"

"Look, I don't…" Vivian paused and looked away for a moment. She could shut the hell up or she could say something. Did she want her best friend not to know why she was acting all weird? She did. "I have a thing, I mean not a _thing_ thing, but a thing… a crush. Uh. On you. And I just. I thought you should know. I should tell you. Because… we tell each other stuff. Right? That's what's so great, us hanging out, and … I don't know, I guess I just— I don't want you to think I'm not going to McGill because I'm _mad_ at you or something stupid. It's not related to that at all—"

She didn't get to finish her rambling. Liv grabbed her face and shut her up with a kiss. Alarm bells rang in Vivian's head, as well as a funny comment from Gail about how the easiest way to shut up a Stewart in full on ramble mode was with a kiss. Whoa, whoa, what was going on now? Liv was kissing her!

"Jesus, you're so stupid for being so damn smart," whispered Liv.

"Sorry," Viv replied, blinking and feeling very confused.

Liv gave her a stern look, but leaned in to kiss her again. This was a little different. Not quiet as forcefully shutting Vivian up. They paused, resting their foreheads together. "Why didn't you say something?" Liv's voice was soft and quiet.

"Scared," she said, barely a whisper. "You're my best friend." Vivian closed her eyes and swallowed. She didn't have a lot of friends. Except for Matty, all their friends had been Olivia's first.

And Liv laughed softly. "No wonder you were freaking out about McGill."

Oh yeah. That. "I'm ... Going to UoT," she breathed.

"I know, you idiot." Liv's voice sounded amused and gentle. This was not news to her. Vivian opened her eyes and frowned. "And I'm going to McGill, so this might be really stupid."

A memory clicked. Gail had told her about the time she and Holly tried to get back together, when Holly was planning to move to San Francisco, and both had decided that long distance wouldn't work. For them. "My moms couldn't do it," she said, the words popping out before her brain really had a chance to edit. "Didn't… whatever."

Liv put a finger to Vivian's mouth. "That head of yours never turns off, does it?" All Vivian could do was shake her head. "Look. We're eighteen—" When Vivian opened her mouth to point out Liv was still seventeen, Liv glared and covered her mouth with a hand, "Close enough. Point is, we have no idea, right?" Slowly, Viv nodded. "Okay. So how stupid do you want to be?"

Arching her eyebrows, Vivian waited until Liv moved her hand. "I just didn't want you to go without saying something," she admitted. "I hadn't really thought about it after that."

"You totally didn't plan this," laughed Liv.

"Nope, not one bit," sighed Vivian. She leaned away, dropping onto her bed with a grimace. "This is really dumb. Can we forget I said anything?"

Liv sat down next to Vivian. "No, I don't think so. I mean, I kissed you. I don't kiss just anybody."

Teasing Liv was as natural as breathing. "That's not what I hear, bullet lips."

She reached over and flicked at Vivian's bangs. "Moron, I thought you were just … asexual or something."

"Oh, very much not," grumbled Vivian, reaching for a pillow and covering her face. "When you were dating that jackass from the basketball team, I kind of wanted to set his car on fire."

Beside her, Liv made an amused noise. "I thought you just didn't like him."

Vivian moved the pillow so she could hug it. It was her shield. "I didn't. Don't. He's a dick. All male blah blah blah." Looking up at Liv, she added, "I've had a crush on you for … like a year." Years. She'd twigged to it when they got to high school.

And to her surprise, Liv leaned down to kiss her, very very lightly. "That makes more sense." She lay down next to Vivian, their legs hanging off the side of the bed. "I like you too, Viv."

"The kissing kinda gave that one away," giggled Vivian. Liv elbowed her. "Does that make this stupider?"

"Well. It means I need to tell Matty I'm not going to the dance with him."

With a frown, Vivian eyed her friend (girlfriend?). "What dance?" She never went to the dances. Not since she'd been twelve and her then boyfriend tried to feel her up. Having your moms pick you up from the security guard station because you kneed a boy in the balls was not something to inspire you to go to dances. No one ever asked Vivian again, and she'd not been inclined to ask anyone or go stag. At least Gail had found it hilarious.

"Spring Fling, whatever the hell they're calling the last one. We should go."

How the hell did Liv just say those things. "Uh, news flash. Yours truly and dances?"

Liv giggled. "I promise not to try and feel you up by the cafeteria."

Not the point. "We'd have to kinda tell our folks." Vivian hesitated. "Mine know I have a crush on you," she said in a rush. It nearly came out as one word.

"Good! That'll make it a lot easier." Liv seemed totally comfortable. "You don't have to wear a dress… if you even own one. Seriously. Look at all that fleece in your closet, Viv! Flannel too! I should have known!"

In any other time, Vivian would have whapped Liv with the pillow in her hands. So she did that now, smacking Liv across the stomach. "Shut up, you're jealous of my backpacks!" They'd both heard Gail's joke about fleece, backpacks, and lesbians a hundred times.

Liv grabbed the pillow and tossed it to the foot of the bed, laughing. "I'm so jealous of you knowing who you are," she admitted. "That's a Peck thing, isn't it?"

"So Moms say," agreed Vivian. Holly had expressed the same jealousy a few times, though Gail had pointed out Holly knew what she wanted professionally a lot more clearly than Gail had. And sooner.

They lay there on the bed, silent, for a little while. Finally Liv turned her head to look at Viv. "Will you be my date to the dance?"

This was the moment, realized Vivian. She could say no and they could be friends who kissed that one time, who were going to college 540 kilometers apart (6 hours plus a timezone change if you drove, oddly an hour less if you took the train), and who saw each other a few times a year. Or she could say yes and have that plus maybe a little more. Vivian swallowed. She knew what she wanted. She could feel the heat from Liv's hand, lying on bed between them, right next to her hand.

Turning her head, she looked at Liv and very carefully turned her own hand over, sliding it under Liv's and lacing her fingers through her best friend's. She'd seen her mothers hold hands like that a hundred million times. It was what people did when they liked someone, right? They held hands. "Okay," she whispered.

They stayed like that, smiling shyly. The world had changed just a little. Very slowly, Vivian moved closer until their heads were touching again. It felt weird and right and okay and scary all at the same time, but she kissed Liv and that was good. It was what Gail would tease and call 'tame' but it was perfect for right now. She would be okay with doing that for a long time.

Someone rapped on the door once, not opening it. "Honey, is Olivia still over and is she staying for dinner?" Holly. She never would open the door.

Flustered, Viv and Liv broke apart and scrambled into sitting. Vivian mouthed 'are you?' and Liv nodded, her skin darker than normal. Hoping she wasn't blushing too much, Vivian took a deep breath and got up to open the door. "Hi, yeah," managed Vivian.

From the bed, Liv asked, "If it's okay?"

"You're always welcome to stay for dinner, Liv," laughed Holly, waving. "Gail's making fried chicken. Any requests?"

Liv shook her head. "Nope. Thanks, Aunt Holly."

There was a pause. Just a small twitch of surprise from Holly, who rarely missed a trick. "You're welcome." Holly smiled at Liv and then said to Vivian, "Door stays open, honey."

Once Holly left, Vivian groaned and sat at her desk. "What did _that_ mean?" Liv sounded lost.

"That means Mom knows." Vivian put her head on her desk. "Does it suck this much with your parents? Do they _always_ know everything?"

"Mom does. Dad … not really." And Vivian could see that. Uncle Frank could be remarkably dense when it came to his girls, but Aunt Noelle never missed a thing. Ever. "Hey, maybe Mom'll be your TO!"

Vivian peered over. "That's like four or five years away, Liv. You really think _Sgt._ William is still gonna be a TO?"

And Liv nodded. "She loves it. She's good at it. I think she'll do it until they make her retire."

It was Oliver that threw them off, taking early retirement. He was too young. Even stupid Sam was still a detective. But Vivian knew what Liv apparently did not. Noelle was going to be the next Inspector of Fifteen. "I doubt they'd put me at Fifteen," pointed out Vivian and Liv snorted. "Eh. I don't care."

She really didn't. Not about that. No matter where she was, her moms would watch out for her, as annoying as that might be. And at that moment, there were other concerns.

* * *

"Sex," said Holly as she walked into Vivian's room, scaring the hell out of her while she finished her French homework.

Then the word sunk in. "Oh my god, no." Vivian covered her face.

Holly sighed loudly and sat on Vivian's bed. "You're still a virgin, honey," she pointed out, not sounding delighted to have this conversation.

"How do... No, I don't want to know why you know that." The answer was Gail. She knew that. Gail knew everything. Yes, it was infuriating. "I know what sex is, Mom," groaned Vivian, pressing her face to her desk. "Mom gave me that talk years ago." Gail had sat her down, twice over the years, for a serious talk about it.

"Yes," sighed Holly. "But not the lesbian sex talk. Which I really don't know why..."

Uncomfortably, Vivian did. "Because the first time she had sex was with a boy. And I had a date with a boy."

With a grumble, Holly seemed to allow that as reasonable. "I hate when she's right."

Vivian peeked over. "Is it really that different?"

Giving her a dry look, her mother pointed out something obvious. "Couldn't tell you. I've never had sex with a man." She cleared her throat. "With a woman... It's very, um. Intimate."

Poor Holly was so awkward, Vivian couldn't help but smile. "Mom, seriously."

But Holly was looking incredibly serious. Awkward, but serious. "Seriously? The one time you went out with a boy, you kneed him in the balls, honey."

"He grabbed my boob!" She'd also knocked him out.

There was a pause. "You better not tell Gail that."

They both chuckled. "Wasn't planning on it." Although she'd had _a_ sex talk years before that, Gail had given her a more practical one when Vivian announced she had a date with a boy to a dance. That talk had explained things like how kissing was messy, and yes people did use tongues, but also about how touching other body parts would make you feel different. It was, when she compared it to what her friends shared later, pretty informative and useful. And according to Gail, it was one of the few things Elaine had insisted on in her childhood, going as far as to argue with Harold, Bill's father. That seemed a lot more daunting now, Vivian realized.

As for Brandon, he'd tried to get to second base after she said no, so she'd done exactly what Gail told her to do and was firm and direct. The idiot did apologize later and had become far more respectful of people. If she'd told Gail about it, instead of laughing about her kid knocking out a boy, she would have taken the boy apart.

And it wasn't that sex was a weird or taboo subject for their family, but there was a big difference now. It felt different to talk about it when Vivian had an actual desire to have sex. Suddenly the theoretical was becoming practical.

Still, Holly leaned forward and, in her frank and somewhat clinical way, explained what sex was like with a woman. This was informative in a very different way that Gail's version of sex. Holly wasn't kidding when she said it was intimate. Unlike Gail's explanations about the physicality, mechanics, and the body's feelings, Holly's was more about the emotions and the connections. A more organic sort of relationship. Natural. While Holly's version was a little more romantic, which was weird considering how she explained it at all, Gail's sounded a bit more fun.

That night, Gail was home late. Vivian lounged on the couch, playing a basketball video game while her mom worked on an essay for a magazine. When the garage door sounded, the vague distraction on Holly's face gave way to a delighted smile. That never changed. Her mothers were in love and it showed. Holly watched as Gail walked in, exhausted and cranky.

"Hey," smiled Holly.

The grumpy face on Gail faded a little. "Hey." She walked by Holly, kissing her softly. "Did you eat?"

"We did. Leftovers in the fridge."

"Et vous, Singe?"

"Mom told me about lesbian sex, so can we please stop talking about it?"

Gail laughed, clearly surprised. "I take it you don't need me to re-explain things?"

"No, no, no," said Vivian, firmly. "Go eat."

Instead, Gail went upstairs to lock away her gun and get out of her gear. In a few minutes, barefoot and in her black t-shirt, Gail was back and making up a bowl of leftovers. Holly followed her to the kitchen, talking softly about things between each other.

When they came back in, Gail cleared her throat. "We have come to a decision."

"Oh crap," muttered Vivian, pausing her game.

"Hush. You're not invited to the opera."

Vivian blinked and sat up. "Not that I'm not a little bummed about it ... But what show am I now missing?" They had tickets to the show that Friday, but Vivian hadn't paid attention to what, exactly. She did like going to the opera though.

"Blackbeard and Erwartung." Gail dug into the food.

The names were familiar. "Wait, I thought you had three tickets."

"Four, and your _grandmother_ has a date."

"What? Elaine has a date?" This was news, and delightful news at that. "Miss Lonely Hearts? Miss I'm Not Dating?"

Holly gently pushed Vivian's head as she crossed the room to take the easy chair. "The very same." She had a glass of water and picked up the remote. "Mind if I watch the actual people game?"

When had that changed, wondered Vivian? When had her mothers transitioned into treating her like an adult? Like she was a full member of the household with a vote and a say in everything? "Lemme save." She quickly called a timeout, saved, and quit the game.

They settled in, Gail shoving her feet in Holly's lap and watching as well. Once in a while, Gail would pull her phone out of her pocket and check something, but she didn't comment on the fact that they were watching sports. At a commercial, Gail ran her dishes to the washer and came back with cookies for all three of them. "John promised not to call," she said as she sat down.

For some reason, Holly laughed and picked up a cookie. "Why is that funny?" Vivian frowned and took three cookies.

"Khaaaaaaaaaaan," snarled Gail, shaking a fist. Holly snorted and covered her mouth.

Oh right. "This was the opera you guys went to see that night?"

Gail shoved Holly's thigh with her foot. "I have been waiting over a decade for it to come back. I'll fire anyone who calls me."

Smiling, Holly took Gail's foot and started to rub it. "You were Butler's baby detective back then. That was your first case with John."

"First big one," mused Gail.

Vivian's whole life with them, Gail and John had been partners. Now he was only titularly her partner, but he was Gail's right hand man. "Uncle John's pretty cool."

"Yeah he is," Gail agreed. "I'm going to miss him. But thanks to you, he says he's staying on until you get cut loose."

What the what? John kept talking about how he should retire soon. He talked about it more the week his mother passed away. But he stayed on, for Gail and for himself, because this was his family. "He wants to see me a cop?"

Gail nodded. "Actually I think he may just never retire..." She paused. "You know, John was engaged once."

Vivian frowned. "To Aunt Rachel?"

"No. No, this was before we knew him. When he was a rook, he had a girlfriend he loved. Proposed. And then she went missing." Vivian's eyes widened. "Never found her. It's been a long time since." Gail sighed loudly. "Anyway. I think that's why he's not retired."

Vivian looked between her moms. "Am I allowed to know that?"

Gail shrugged. "Keep it secret. And if he tells you, blame me."

But in all likelihood, John wouldn't. "Alright. So you and Elaine, and her booooooyfriend will be out?"

The look from Holly was cautionary. The one from Gail was encouraging. "Olivia may not spend the night," Holly said firmly.

Pursing her lips, Gail nodded. "I'll agree with that." But she smiled at Vivian. A lot could go on in an evening, after all.

* * *

"Your parents are at the opera tonight, right?" Olivia dropped into the empty seat beside her, a terribly unhealthy burger on her lunch tray.

"Hello to you too, sunshine," smirked Vivian. "Nice lunch. Real healthy."

Liv rolled her eyes and picked up her burger. "I craaaaaaaaaaave meat."

Arching her eyebrows, Viv waited for it to sink in. As soon as Liv started blushing, Vivian grinned. "That's what she said," chuckled Vivian. She picked up one of Liv's fries. "Yes, Moms are on a date night tonight. Blackbeard is at the opera house, and Gail's been dying to see it since that Klingon case."

They both knew the story of the Klingon case. Gail had been pulled aside to solve the death of Khan not even halfway into the first piece. "So. Friday night, no Moms..."

"Yeah?"

"Where will Elaine be?"

"With them. She has a date."

Liv brightened. "And we will be doing?"

She was missing something. "A fuckton of homework thanks to Mr. Geary?"

"God, you're thick. I want to come over. Four hours, no interruptions, no parents..."

Vivian blinked and then felt her face heat up. "Oh." She stared at her salad. "Um. Sure." Two girls. Alone. In a house. Liv normally came over when her parents were out and sometimes spent the night. They were friends and that was what friends did. Except now there was a different implication of coming over and hanging out. And currently Liv's parents and Viv's had put a hold on sleepovers. For logical reasons, they agreed. Everyone except Gail had agreed, that was. Gail said 'for now' and had a look that promised to renegotiate.

Her friend, her girlfriend, looked at her thoughtfully while she ate her burger. Finally Olivia spoke. "We can just hang out, Viv." Because Olivia understood a lot of her. Because Olivia knew that the issues in Vivian's heart ran deep. That she took forever to trust and longer to open herself up to others. And change ... Change and Vivian were not always on speaking terms.

And here was a change that scared the hell out of her. It was a change she'd desperately wanted and equally feared. Vivian reached over and put her hand on Olivia's leg. "They're going to dinner at 6:30," she said slowly. "Two one acts. They won't be home till one or two."

"I can come over at eight," suggested Liv, equally slowly, but way more relaxed.

"What'll you tell Frank and Noelle?"

Liv exhaled, looking a little nervous. "I was going to tell them I was going to Matty's," she started and Vivian scoffed.

"I have a better idea," she decided. "Come over with me after school. It's not like they all won't know anyway."

"Oh, now you're all bold," teased Liv, but she smiled ear to ear.

Blushing again, Vivian took her hand back and stole another fry. "Don't get your hopes up, Best. I just think it's stupid to try and hide from our parents. One of 'em will figure it out."

And she was right. When Gail came rushing into the house at five, in a hurry to get ready, she skidded to a stop when she saw Vivian and Olivia watching a movie on the couch, their textbooks spread out. "Oh. Good. No sleepovers tonight, Liv. Is Holly home?"

"No sleepovers, Mom is on her way," smiled Vivian. She looked back at her physics book. "Okay, so it's this?" She pointed to a formula.

"Yeah, that'll work," nodded Liv. "And I promise to be gone before you get home, Aunt Gail."

They repeated the conversation when Holly came home, half an hour later. Holly was far less stressed about getting ready, but she was far lower maintenance than Gail was, especially on dress up nights. The hustle amused the hell out of Olivia, who giggled every time Gail shouted at Holly about not wearing whatever it was Holly was trying to put on. But at a quarter after six, both her parents were dressed and downstairs.

"Wow," blinked Olivia as Gail came down first.

Vivian glanced up and smiled at the slinky red dress Gail had on. "Looking good, Mom."

With her hair it's 'natural' reddish tone, much like Uncle Steve's, Gail had swept it into curls best described as 'just woke up.' Except Vivian had never seen Gail's hair look that way in the morning. This was soap opera hair. Her makeup, as always, was impeccable, and her heels gave her an inch over Holly, easily.

"Thank you, Monkey." Glancing at Olivia, she cleared her throat. "Liv, I'm not kidding. Your ass better be in your own home when we get back." Gail threaded earrings through the holes in her ears, frowning. "I don't want to hear it from Noelle that I broke the agreement."

"Stop threatening them," chastised Holly, in wide legged, grey, slacks and a tuxedo shirt. "They understand. Now. Come here." Holly stood on her tip toes and looped a necklace around Gail's neck, kissing her shoulder. "We'll be back by midnight, Viv, honey," she added, resting her hands on Gail's waist.

Her parents stayed like that for a moment, smiling, and Gail turned around to kiss Holly properly. "Fine, fine, come on. I'm not on call, Steve's at home. I refuse to let anything come between me and some good opera tonight."

As her parents went to the garage, Holly teased Gail about having waited almost fifteen years for this opera. Gail protested she could be patient to Holly's laughter. But finally her parents were gone.

"They're way too cute," giggled Liv.

Vivian sighed. "Mom really loves the opera."

"And Holly just wants to see her in a slinky dress." Liv laughed again. Smiling, Vivian looked back at her homework, finishing the last questions. "You done?"

"Yeah," nodded Vivian, feeling impossibly awkward and shy. The books were shoved to the coffee table and Liv took her hand. They kissed softly, easing into a comfortable position on the couch. It didn't escape Vivian that Olivia was way more experienced with kissing, which made her feel even more embarrassed.

After a little while they broke apart, resting their foreheads against each other. "We don't have to do anything," Liv pointed out.

"I know," sighed Vivian.

"I'm serious, Viv. We can make out and then cuddle and watch a movie or you can drive me home."

They ended up settling on the couch, much like they always did, and started to watch the movie. The difference now was their legs were touching, somewhat tangled up. About halfway through, Vivian cleared her throat. "You're the first person I've kissed," she said softly.

Olivia blinked, surprised. "Wait. Brandon?" When Viv shook her head, her oldest friend looked shocked. "Oh. He just grabbed your boob without kissing first!? What a dick!"

"That was his suave move to kiss me. Grabbed the boob at the same time." She sighed. "He's lucky I didn't break something."

Shaking her head, Olivia asked, "Why didn't you tell me then?"

"Oh. Well." Vivian looked up at the ceiling. "I was kind of confused. Everyone, including you, were all into dating and ... I wasn't."

"Late bloomer?"

"And the gay thing."

Liv huh'd softly. "So. You are?"

"Think so. At least, I've never really... Uh."

"Guys don't do it for you? How did Aunt Gail raise a prude?" Liv was teasing.

"I'm not," pouted Vivian. "The practical and the theoretical are different." She hugged a pillow close. "I went out with Brandon because you were going out with guys. I've kind of always been attracted to girls."

A look of enlightenment crossed Liv's face. "Erin! You had a crush on Erin our track captain!"

Vivian nodded a little. "She was really cute."

"Okay, so how long have you liked me?"

"Really? We're having this conversation?"

Liv flipped her braids out of her face. "I realized I liked you a few months ago."

Only a few months. Vivian couldn't decide if that was good or bad. "Two Christmases ago," she sighed. "You were making out with Jeff what's his face and I felt a little homicidal." Jealous. She'd suddenly wanted to shove him out of the way, preferably down a Sarlac Pit, and take his place. After Liv brushed her teeth.

Liv smiled and reached forward, taking the pillow away from Viv and then holding her hands. "I want to kiss you, Viv."

Her mouth went dry. "I like kissing you." They leaned in slowly, kissing again.

But that was really all they did. The things Vivian had fantasized about (with some nebulous person, usually a really cute actress from TV) were surprisingly frightening to do the first time. Which spurred her to ask Gail something a few days later, while they were heading home from the grocery store.

"Mom, was it scary when you and Mom, er, you know, had sex the first time?"

Gail nearly tripped on the sidewalk. "Oh. Yes." She scratched the back of her head with her free hand. "Sex is always scary the first time with someone, though."

They walked a little more. "I meant because she'd done it before and you hadn't."

"Hmm. Yeah, that too. I freaked out a little, but I was also coming to grips with being gay, shot at, having epic flashbacks to Perik, and I chopped off all my hair. I was kinda overwhelmed at the time." But she smiled softly. "Your Mom was awesome about it. Patient."

Vivian looked at the people around them. "Liv's ... Um. She's slept with guys."

And Gail nodded. "I know. I gave her a safe sex talk."

Well that was making it more awkward. "Awesome. My mom and my ..." She trailed off.

"Girlfriend," supplied Gail, sounding bemused.

Okay fine. "My mom and my girlfriend have talked about sex. That's real weird, Mom."

"Hey, I'm great at the sex talk."

"Sure, except the part about how two women can't knock each other up."

Gail groaned. "You were seven!" Her blue eyes were sparkling with laughter though. "I take it there was no sex on Opera night?"

"No," sighed Vivian.

"Well. It'll happen or it won't, kiddo. Try not to stress about it."

Sometimes Gail was supportive in weird ways. "I want to," mumble Vivian. She was uncomfortably turned on by Liv, her body getting hot and ... Well. She was horny, and a teenager.

Gail changed hands, putting the grocery bag in her left hand and slinging her right arm around Vivian's shoulders. "When did you get so tall?"

"Last year." Up until then, Vivian had bounced between average height and small. Then at seventeen, she shot up three inches and found out that growing pains were actually a medical thing, and fuck they hurt. She was still growing, too. Holly suspected she'd top six feet by the end. Right now, though, she was a bare inch shorter than Gail's 5'10" and Holly's just a smidgen more.

"You were barely the height of a five year old when we met you," sighed Gail. "We were so worried you'd have development problems."

Vivian leaned into her mother's side. "Just a garden variety misanthropist," she quipped.

"Well, people suck," chuckled Gail. "So. Are you gay or bi?"

"I think I'm gay." Why was that so easy to say to Gail? "You?"

"Bisexual," she said thoughtfully. "Technically. I mean, I have more than a clinical interest in guys, but your mom..." She sighed loudly. "Doesn't matter. I'm Holly-sexual."

That was true. It didn't matter at all. "Mom's gay."

"She's a gold star," agreed Gail, smiling. "I am annoyed at you, though." Vivian startled. "I wasted a _great_ talk about sex with guys on you!"

Vivian laughed and shoved her mother. "You are such a child, Mom."

* * *

They did, eventually, have sex.

It was after school on a day Holly was stuck in the Crowne's office on a testimony and Gail and Steve were working late on a case. The rain had canceled track so Vivian drove them to the lakeshore with Matty to hang out like friends did. Their oldest friend, who was younger than they were, had taken their relationship change pretty casually.

Matty privately admitted he'd thought Viv had a crush on Liv for a while.

They sat under the protection of an awning, drinking fruit smoothies from the best vendor in the world, according to Gail who was never wrong about food, and chatted about normal things. Matty going to school in New York, and his desperate dream of meeting Tim Gunn was the foremost topic. Olivia teased him about having a crush on the celebrity until Matty blushed beet red and Vivian made her stop.

She was always protective of Matty, especially since the gay bashing incident, but that was a couple years past and nothing similar had happened again. It was an event that helped cement Vivian's desire to be a cop. She wanted to help the Mattys in the world. Her parents got that, thankfully. So did Liv, the daughter of two cops.

After dropping Matty off at his place, and saying hi to his dad, the girls found themselves alone again. Vivian checked where her parents were and then suggested they could go back to the Casa Peck/Stewart (still alphabetical).

Which was how it ended up happening.

They were just making out in Vivian's room when, just like Gail warned her, one thing really did just lead to another. It sure as hell wasn't planned on her part, but by the time Vivian's brain caught up with processing what she was doing, it was at a point where she was pretty sure her body would try and revolt and turn the brain off again if she even suggested they stop.

Hell, they didn't even really get totally undressed. Which, again, Gail told her was likely. In fact, Gail was disturbingly accurate about a lot of things. She was right about how it would feel and that it would be messy. But, not to be outdone, Holly's advice had been spot on as well. It was intense and the feelings were a bit overwhelming.

But they lay there, in Vivian's full sized bed, breathing deeply, equal parts embarrassed and pleased. And Vivian laughed. "Not the reaction I was expecting," muttered Liv as Vivian buried her face into Liv's shirt.

"I'm sorry." But she had the giggles. "Did we just do that?"

"Yeah," said Liv slowly. And then she too laughed. "Okay, that was different," she snickered.

Vivian drew a deep, sort of shaky breath. "Good different?"

A warm hand cupped her chin and drew her head up to kiss softly. "Yes."

There was a second time, less awkward though still totally awkward, and then the realization that Gail or Holly would be home spurred them into cleaning up and finding clothes and Vivian dropping Olivia off at her house. If her parents noticed anything, they said nothing. They came home together, which was weird.

"Whose car broke?"

"Gran Turismo Peck."

Gail rolled her eyes. "One not even high speed car chase," she grumbled. "I screwed up the alignment taking a curb."

Vivian laughed. "Did you get the guy?"

"Of course!" Gail gestured at Vivian. "You see, Stewart? That's what you ask. None of this bullshit about how I wrecked the car you got me for our anniversary. Which I did not do. It's not wrecked."

"I believe the _first_ thing I asked was if you were alright," said Holly with a wry smile.

That ended Gail's rant. The blonde smiled sheepishly. "I'm fine." She leaned in to kiss Holly and then eyed Vivian. "You didn't ask me that. Do you not love me anymore?"

The moods of Gail Peck were mercurial. "Mom isn't freaking out and you don't smell like a hospital. Three points, Vivian. Thank you." She bowed to her mothers who laughed loudly.

But that meant the only thing that changed was her. Her and Olivia. And that was weird. Weirder would be what they were going to do later, because Vivian was not going to Montréal and Olivia was.

She and Liv talked about it more, about what to do about it. There was, in the end, only one real answer.

After she finished the paperwork, Vivian handed it to her mother. First Gail read it and then she eyed Vivian. "UoT."

Vivian nodded. "UoT. I'm going to study criminal justice."

Her mother put her iPad down. "Okay. You start this, you have to finish. You have to graduate, no matter what you want to be, and I'd like it if you take something besides cop classes.

"Or what?" Vivian dug one foot into the ground.

Gail looked surprised. "Or? Nothing. You're going to graduate if you start college. If you take nothing but cop classes, I think you'll be bored, but... Hey. I just want you to see it through."

That was such a weird concept. "Is that a Peck thing? Going to college?"

Her mother shook her head. "There are a lot of Peck things I could give a shit about, Viv. But this is a me thing, and your mom thing. You start your education, you finish it."

There were a lot of odd Peck things that Gail was vehemently against. Like... "Why didn't you want me to walk to the cottage?"

There was a long silence from Gail. "You know that store we always stop at? Get the groceries?"

"Sure, they have those awesome sodas."

"There was this one summer, I was twelve years old, my parents drove into town. I went into the store to get something and when I came out, Mom and Dad were gone." She sighed and drew up a knee to hug. "You find your way home through the woods, on your own. It's a Peck family tradition."

Vivian felt vaguely appalled. When Steve and Elaine had mentioned it, they made it sound a little fun. Like a challenge. Like the kids had always known about it in advance. Not that it was a surprise. "Just- just like that? No warning?"

"Nope," replied Gail. "No warning, no explanations."

And Gail hadn't wanted to put her daughter through that. "I can't believe Elaine did that."

Her mother laughed. "My Mom had to do the same thing before she could marry Dad."

Mind boggling. "Did Mom?"

"God no. No, after we got married, my folks divorced and they gave me the cottage. We had our honeymoon up there." Gail had that dopey smile that she got when thinking about happy things with Holly.

Vivian sat on the swing beside her mother. "How come you got it?"

"I love it," she admitted. "Steve... He's still mad about the other hike. Overnight on your sixteenth birthday. He nearly drowned in a rainstorm."

A spring baby, Steve would have slogged through the June storms. But Gail was born in November. "Winter? They made you hike in winter?" Vivian was aghast when her mother nodded. "That is actually insane."

Of all the things Gail could have done, she laughed. "Yeah, yeah it is. But you, kiddo, you aren't that kind of Peck." She picked up her beer and sipped it. "You're still graduating college."

That was a Peckspectation that Vivian could live with. "I'll take an engineering class or two."

"Your mom would like that," smiled Gail. "And Liv is going to McGill. That... What're you two doing?"

"We're going to try it." Vivian stretched her legs out. The plan was to visit each other, which she had her doubts on.

Judging by the dubious expression on Gail's face, she too saw the flaws in the plan. Because Vivian was eighteen and had never been able to sleep over at anyone's house. "You're going to visit her in Montréal?" As Vivian nodded, Gail sighed. "Oh, kiddo." An arm wrapped around Vivian's shoulder, a pale hand pulled her head to her mother's, and she got that rare hug from Gail.

It was Holly whose hugs could push Vivian into crying. Holly had the hugs that always told Viv exactly how much Holly loved her, and they never failed to make them both a little weepy. But Gail's hugs... If wasn't Holly or Vivian, Gail generally didn't hug. When she hugged Holly, it was always a hug of adoration and a little awe. It had been a long time and Vivian got to see, every day, that Holly was still the love of Gail's life.

But those hugs she got from her pale skinned, blonde mother were always more supportive. A hug to give her the strength to carry on. Gail's hugs carried her through funerals. And then, once in a while, she got a hug like the one she was getting on the swinging bench. Once in a while Gail gave up trying to tell Vivian she loved her and just pulled her in. A hug that told Vivian that this is family. A hug that said there was nothing in the world Vivian could do to disappoint her and make her mad. A hug that promised, no matter what happened with Olivia, Gail would get up at one in the morning and speed to Montréal just to be there for her.

That was the hug that never failed to make her sniffle. "I hate it," she mumbled, letting Gail hold her close for longer than either of them usually liked.

"I know," whispered Gail. "You can live here forever, Viv." They sat like that for a while. "Is it why you didn't go to McGill?"

Vivian shook her head. "No... It's stupid and you'll laugh, but you and Mom went to UoT. I want... I don't get to be a lot like you guys. I wanted to have more in common."

As expected, Gail laughed. "You are the best child in the universe, Monkey." A brusque press of lips to her forehead prefaced Vivian being let go. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"I know, Mom."

"Yeah. I'm going to keep telling you that. All the time."

"You're really embarrassing, Mom," sighed Vivian, leaning into Gail's shoulder. "You're a good mom."

Gail ruffled her hair. "Thank you." Then with a shove, Gail got up. "Come on. Your sexier mom just texted me."

The advent of the smart watch was so weird. Gail and Holly had worn them practically the whole time Vivian had known them and used them as quick ways to remind each other of various things. Many people, including Elaine and Brian, had lamented the smart watch as yet another way to distance people from themselves. Vivian saw it as a way to say 'I love you' when you had communication problems. Her own watch tapped her wrist with the familiar heartbeat of her mother. A simple way to say 'I'm on my way home.' Vivian smiled. "She done with lawyers?"

"For today. We should make her comfort food."

Grinning, Vivian stood up. "She'll yell that you're making her fat."

Gail rolled her eyes. "Fine. Something low carb and low fat."

"Do you even know how to do that?"

Her mother glowered and went inside. "Keep that up and I'll ask you how the sex was." Vivian felt her face turn red and Gail went on, blasé as fuck. "Oh please, why do you think I made sure you two got the house to yourselves? You didn't really think Steve and I needed to go over case notes, did you?"

"Please stop talking," groaned Vivian. "Mom's gonna be mad."

"Well. We had different opinions on that," noted Gail, pulling out chicken.

Interesting turn of phrase. "Had?"

Gail grinned as she stared setting up for cooking. "I pointed out that you'd be safer having sex at home."

"I ... I don't think I want to know," muttered Vivian. "How was Elaine okay with you doing that?"

Snorting, Gail chopped up some onions. "I made sure she wasn't home, hello. About the only boy it scared off was Nick."

Vivian scrunched her face up. "Ew. I cannot picture you and Uncle Nick. Or any guy. That seems so ..."

Agreeing, Gail sighed loudly. "Hey, I didn't figure out I was into women for real till your mom came in all panicked I was gonna die or get shot." Gail got that soft smile she had when thinking about Holly. "But .. She was just ... I love her. I mean, if she'd been a guy, I'd still love her. She's just the right person for me."

Their love was an incredibly hard act to follow. "I'm glad," Vivian said at length. "Because ... This is horrible. But if you'd adopted Sophie and Mom had gone to San Francisco, where would I be?"

The sound Gail made was unfamiliar and Vivian frowned as she looked up. Oh. That was the sound of Gail holding back tears. And failing. They were weirdly silent, the tears that fell, but they set off ones in Vivian as well.

They didn't say anything more. They went back to cooking together, a job Vivian had had with Gail for over a decade, in silence. Their faces were puffy and still red when Holly walked in.

"Hey," said Holly, cautiously. "Everything okay?"

Gail nodded. "Yeah, yeah, we're good."

Dubious, Holly eyed Vivian who also nodded. "You guys are creeping me out." But she kissed Vivian's cheek and then Gail more romantically. "Can I help?"

And Gail shook her head. "No. Unless you want to get drinks."

After dinner, Vivian saw her moms talking quietly at the sink. Their heads were bent slightly and their voices too low to hear. The problem of them as parents was that Vivian was fairly sure she and Olivia weren't that. They weren't that strong yet, though maybe they would be. Vivian had her doubts. But at the same time, she didn't mind.

She liked Olivia. A lot. But as Gail would point out, they were kids. Not that Vivian wanted to screw up and mess things up, but she was a bit too realistic. She sighed and shook her head. No point in worrying about it now, she decided. Right now she was going to enjoy what she had.

Admittedly that wasn't something she was great at.

But she could try.

* * *

 _So they're going to try. In a few chapters, you'll see how well this turns out. Chapter 21 will cover that._


	20. Cougar

**Chapter 20: Cougar**

 **Type: Humor**

 **Rating: T**

 _A coworker, much younger than I am, hit on me, asking me out for coffee. It took me a while to realize she was hitting on me. I gently pointed out I was married (I don_ _'_ _t have my ring on if I_ _'_ _m doing any manual work) and she was horribly embarrassed. Then we had to talk about her performance review._

 _Awkward._

 _Guess who else does those in this universe?_

 _Chief Medical Examiner Holly Stewart. Who is 50. This is the winter after Matty got beat up (chapter 16 - Boy in a Dress)._

* * *

It was much harder to watch someone else perform an autopsy than it was to actually do one. After all the years as a lead and then assistant ME and now, finally, chief medical examiner, Holly was used to it. And frankly, one of Holly's favorite things was to watch her new staff on their first one.

Today was the first for Wanda Ury, the newest pathologist in the lab, fresh out of school. Apparently she'd been named for Wanda Maximoff by her incredibly nerdy parents. Wanda was nice so far. She was smart, quick on the uptake, and hadn't yet embarrassed herself in the field. So her reward was a solo autopsy.

Solo did not mean without seniors in attendance. Rodney, her lead pathologist (though not yet an assistant ME), supervised and took notes, but said nothing. And from outside the room, watching through the glass, Holly sipped her tea and made her own mental notes.

On of the things she'd learned in her fifteen years with Gail, was how to memorize what people did. As Vivian got older, and more interested in what Gail did, the memory games Gail had played with her parents made an appearance. Some of them were bizarre, like 'what time does the next bus come by the stop we just passed?' You had to know the bus routes, the maps, the days, the schedules. And all the Pecks could do it. Some of them, though, like the reading people ones, were kind of fun.

They liked to pick out people on the weekends and try to figure them out. Vivian was surprisingly good at it, right up until she had to talk to them. If she was reading from afar she was fine. Get her up close to people and she shut down a little. The problem was that up close, people expected tit for tat, and even now Vivian did not want to talk about her personal life.

Elaine seemed to find it normal, which really didn't mean much. You had to just accept that Elaine's normal didn't match anyone else's, not even Gail's.

Today, Wanda was nervous and excited. Any idiot could see that. But she was also confident. This was something the woman wanted to do and knew she could do well. Watching a confident woman at work was a pleasure. There weren't enough women in science for Holly's taste, and while Vivian certainly had the aptitude for mechanical engineering, Holly was pretty sure she was watching the next generation of Peck growing up right before her.

Their kid was sixteen. She was becoming an adult, with awkward crushes and making her own decisions without checking with her moms first. It was absolutely terrifying. Neither she nor Gail slept particularly well all the time now, both worried about what Vivian might get into on her life apart from them. Their mothers assured them this was normal, and when Lily and Elaine agreed on a thing, that must be true.

Holly's watch vibrated gently in a heartbeat pattern. Gail. Just saying an 'I love you' in the middle of the day. She smiled and tapped a reply without looking. The watches gave them easy ways to say how they felt about each other. For Gail especially it made her feel more comfortable with her feelings and more likely to say them verbally. Holly found it funny that the technology people claimed would destroy humanity was making it easier for people to communicate.

She watched the autopsy conclude and waited for Rodney to come out. "You can give me your report later," she said quietly. "But it looks alright to me."

Rodney nodded. "Same here." He eyed her tea. "Please tell me you made a whole kettle?"

"Help yourself," she smiled. "It's Celery's winter blend."

He hesitated. "On second thought..." They both laughed. "Hey, that means it's November. You off to the thing tonight?"

Tonight was Gail's birthday shoot. "I am. Kid's competing this year."

"Oh dear god."

"If she loses, she's riding on the float."

Rodney laughed. "Does anyone beat Gail?"

Smiling, Holly shook her head. "I'd think they let her win because she's terrifying, but she's really crazy good at competition shoots."

They grinned. "I'll get you that report then. Go shoot shit."

Holly nodded at Rodney and was surprised when her watch vibrated again. Phone call. She glanced and saw the number was the big building. Quickly Holly pulled out her cell. "This is Dr. Stewart."

She half waved a greeting at Wanda as she listened to one of the superintendents explain about a situation that was going on. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not really even though the police were touchy about it, but it was a high profile case that was coming in soon. After determining what the lab was going to need to do, Holly arranged for the Medical Director, still the crazy Québécois, to take point. Seeing as the case was crossing between Quebec and Ontario, it just made sense.

That did suck up most of her day, including lunch time, and Holly was somewhat surprised when Rodney came in to talk about the report. He came armed with Holly's actual lunch box, a present from Gail, with her lunch inside. After teasing that he was getting a raise, Holly closed the door and they talked about Wanda and her work.

Sometimes Holly wished Rodney showed an inkling to the political, as he would be a brilliant assistant ME. At the same time, as head of the pathologists, he was her right hand man, and no one was better at raising the rookies up right. His opinion on Wanda meant everything, and his approval was all but final. They finished up, sharing the dense lunch Gail had packed (probably knowing Holly would share), and Rodney went to get Wanda for her review.

"Boy, you guys are efficient," Wanda laughed, nervously.

"I'm out the rest of the week, and I'd hate waiting five days," smiled Holly. Tomorrow they drove up to the cottage for Gail's birthday, sans Vivian who was staying home alone. In theory. Viv had been trying to work through her sleepover issues. The therapist's current suggestion was to try being home alone for a long weekend.

"I hope I'm not about to spend the next five days looking for a new job."

Holly shook her head. "No. Not at all. Your supervisor spoke highly of you, and I watched your autopsy."

They talked about that for a little while. About where Wanda wanted to go at the lab, what kind of work she wanted to do, what work she liked doing. They talked more about other things, though, Holly taking the moment to get to know the woman on a more personal level. Unlike her former boss, Tony, Holly found it was easier to have a friendly relationship with her employees. She liked them, for the most part, and was certainly less misanthropic than Gail or Vivian were.

She also didn't read people as well as her wife or daughter.

It was after she explained that she'd like Wanda to stick around, to take a permanent position on the pathology team under Rodney. And it was after Wanda said yes and giddily shook Holly's hand. It was when Wanda was at the door to go and she paused, looking thoughtful and nervous.

"So, are you busy after work?"

Holly blinked a few times. There was a pitch to the words that was familiar. "Sorry?" If it had been Gail, Holly would have thought she was being asked out on a date.

Wanda blushed. "I am not good at this. And I know, it's awkward. You're kinda my boss. But... but would you like to go out?"

Oh. That was what it was. "You're asking me out?"

The blush got worse. "Oh my god. I totally miss-read this. I'm so so so sorry." Wanda pressed her hands to her cheeks. "I just... You said you were going to be on the pride float, and you have the sticker on your desk ... and I just thought-"

"Wanda, I'm totally your boss and I'm married."

That stopped the babble. "M- married?"

Holly smiled and drew her ring, on its chain, out from her shirt. "I don't wear the ring at work for safety." She make a point of putting it on now, however.

"Oh my god, you're not even gay."

Now it was hilarious.

Holly glanced at the photo on her desk. It was her, Gail, and Vivian at an award ceremony. That was when Gail was elevated to Officer of the Order of Merit for the Police Forces. Chloe and John had, to their shock, been made members, though Holly knew it was because Gail threatened to refuse the Order unless they were. She was nothing if not loyal. At home, they had a framed photo of Gail shaking hands with (then) Prince Wills, while Princess Kate stood on the other side. Once in a while there was talk about the trio being inducted into the Royal Victorian Order, but Wills had been King for a while and Holly suspected it would only happen if there was some Canadian scandal that needed distractions.

Holly smiled gently. "My daughter put the sticker on my desk after the first parade we went to. My _wife_ is on the float, I try to avoid it."

"Wife?"

"Wife."

Wanda's face was embarrassed and mortified and confused. "Oh. I am so, so, sorry."

"Honestly, it's more awkward because I'm your boss, Wanda." Holly sighed. "It's really inappropriate."

Her employee had the grace to turn beet red. "I'm sorry."

"Please don't ask out your superiors. Consider this a verbal warning." Technically Holly should write it up, but she had a feeling this would be all that was necessary.

Tail between her legs, Wanda slunk out.

Holly managed to wait till the door closed and she was sure Wanda was gone before giggling. That was possibly the weirdest thing that had ever happened. She pulled her phone out and texted Gail, asking how weird it was to be hit on by older women.

 _Seeing as my experience with that is you and my mother's look alike, I don't think I'm qualified to answer._

Holly smiled and texted back, telling Gail not to call her weird. Then she asked if younger women hit on Gail. Her phone rang. "Hey, honey," smiled Holly into her phone.

"It's my birthday, Holly. Don't fuck with me on my birthday. It's bad enough as is." Gail did not enjoy celebrating her birthday. Never had, probably never would.

"Sorry. I was just hit on by a cougar hunter."

Gail was quiet, digesting that. "She's got good taste. Or he."

"She. Wanda, my newest pathologist."

"Oh, wow, she pulled a McNally and asked out her boss?" Gail laughed brightly. "How late is she staying? Cause I'll get a relay and you can drive me tonight."

Relay? Gail was supposed to be packing. "Are you at work?"

"Alas. John picked me up. We caught a dead guy and the witnesses all speak Punjabi."

"Oh, you're totally going to have Bollywood dreams," teased Holly. "Yes, have John drop you off."

"Alright. We should be done here at five, be there by six, range at seven, ass kicking at eight, and dinner with my mother and our mini-human after."

"And a cottage tomorrow night."

"Keep your pants on, Stewart," laughed Gail. "Gotta show my supremacy first."

They exchanged endearments and Gail hung up, leaving Holly to file the official report on Wanda. After a bit of thought, she left in the minor concern about interpersonal behavior. Only she and her two chief assistants would see it and it was something to be aware of.

Being hit on wasn't abnormal. Whenever a new batch of rookies showed up, Gail and Holly would make friendly bets about who would hit on them. Generally the rookies found Gail too daunting but Holly was popular. After letting it go for at least a drink, Gail would swoop in and scare the shit out of them.

But that never bothered Gail. It made her laugh, and sometimes it made for a fun night at home, but she never seemed to be upset. Gail seemed to accept Holly getting hit on and flirted with as a matter of fact and proof of her own good taste. After all, Holly was hot. It was a given.

On the other hand, Holly hated when Gail was hit on. After she found out that Frankie Anderson had hit on Gail, back when they'd not really been dating, and then _again_ after they'd moved in, she was annoyed. No. Holly was pissed. It had taken her a few years to get where she tolerated Frankie, and another couple before she came to like the mouthy woman.

Sighing, Holly went back to her work. Thinking about how she hated people hitting on her wife wasn't productive.

The rest of the day sped by until half past five, when Andy and Gail showed up, chatting about Nick. "I'm just saying, McNally, he will follow you anywhere if you do that."

Andy looked dubious. "But do I want him to?"

"I can't answer that, Girl Guide." Gail smirked.

"Do I want to know?"

As one, the police officers said, "No."

Holly rolled her eyes. "Are you coming tonight, Andy?"

"Every year," smiled the TO.

"Someone has to lose every year," sassed Gail. "You done yet?"

Saving her files, Holly shoved the laptop into her shoulder bag. "Thank you for delivering my Peck, Andy."

With a smile, Andy explained how Gail pulled her in on the case and they even let the rookie do vaguely important things. Gail quickly signed that Andy was exaggerating. After all this time, Holly could read it much faster than sign it, but she followed along. She had to. Vivian was good at it too.

It was something Holly had never asked, and never expected to find out, but one day Gail told her the story of why she knew sign language. It was the summer after Viv's friend, Matty, had been beaten up. They'd been sitting outside in the villa in Italy, drinking wine and eating fatty foods and not giving a damn about things for a change, when Gail just started talking out of nowhere. She told Holly about the bullying and the suicide and how mad she'd been at Steve. And how proud she was of Viv.

"Why are you smiling like that, Stewart?" Gail was smiling softly.

"I was thinking we're pretty awesome parents. That's all." She took Gail's hand. "Lemme say goodbye to Rodney."

"Leaving him in charge?"

As Holly shrugged, Andy sighed. "I should borrow Oliver's cabin for a weekend with Nick."

Gail snorted. "He won't like it. Army boy likes actual camping. Go do that. He'll be happy, I won't be there with you so you can rock your tent all you want."

They'd not gone camping since the one time. After that, Gail flat out said no every single time it was brought up. Holly didn't mind. She liked camping but she loved their cottage up at the lake.

Andy gave Holly a smirk and headed off to finish her shift before the shoot out. As Holly poked her head into Rodney's office, her old one back when she'd met Gail, she noticed her wife wandering around the hallway. She and Rodney both looked up when they heard Gail ask if someone was Wanda. Rodney looked terrified.

"Gail knows we can hear her," sighed Holly. Gail was setting up the girl. Well. Sometimes it was best to let Pecks be Pecks.

Gail's voice was almost perky. Poor Wanda had no idea what she was in for. She happily introduced herself to Gail, saying that she was the new girl, but she loved the lab. Gail agreed it was a great lab, and run by some of the brightest people. Of course Gail talked up Rodney. She liked him. And then Wanda asked what Gail did.

"Me? I'm a Detective Inspector. Major Crimes."

"Here on a case?"

"No, no, meeting my wife."

The silence echoed off the walls and Holly covered her mouth to prevent the laughter from leaking out.

"Your... Wife?"

"Yeah, she's your boss. Dr. Stewart?"

"Oh. My boss. Is your wife."

"Mm, yeah, twelve years, can you believe that?" Gail laughed brightly.

"Oh. No- I mean yes- I mean... Twelve, wow."

Holly shook her head and patted Rodney's shoulder. "Call me if you need me but-"

"I know," he smiled. "Don't call you. Gail already asked me to man up."

"Honey, I'm all done," called out Holly as she stepped out of Rodney's office. "Hello Dr. Ury."

"Dr. Stewart." Wanda looked green.

Gail smiled and hitched her bag back up on her shoulder. "Rodney good for being in charge?"

"He is," smiled Holly. "You can stop threatening him with your ingenuity, by the way."

"Where's the fun there?" Gail took Holly's hand. "Come on. I want to exert my superiority and put our kid in her place."

Holly shook her head. "I don't know why she doesn't hate you. Oh, Wanda? You can hear everything in this hallway in Rodney's office." The younger doctor's face went slack and Holly tugged Gail around the corner.

They both held it together until they got to the car. Then they both broke down laughing. "You are _terrible_!" Gail wiped the tears from her face.

"You're a bad influence."

"Oh please," snorted Gail.

They giggled all the way to the range, where Gail outshot their daughter by less than one might expect. They broke into giggles about it at dinner with their friends and family. Holly snorted her drink out of her nose on the morning drive to the cabin when Gail growled at her. Gail laughed so hard she slipped on the ice on the dock when Holly meowed at her.

That night, while Gail iced her bruised ass and Holly cooked, she realized that Gail's attitude about the flirting and being asked out was still so incredibly laid back. And that wasn't what Holly would have expected. It had never been what Holly expected, and it had always confused her.

"Hey, honey? Do you mind that Wanda asked me out?"

"Nope." Gail glanced over. "Should I?"

"After... Well. I was kind of wondering why you never get jealous."

"Of you being hit on? Holly, how many rookies buy you drinks every year?"

Holly smiled. At least one in every class. "Why doesn't that bother you?"

Gail looked surprised. "Oh my god, you are totally jealous when people hit on me!"

Blushing, Holly put the food on plates. "I'm not." She was, she lied. "It just makes me a little irrational." She knew Gail would never, in a millions years, ever cheat on her. But still. She was irrational about people, men and women, hitting on her wife.

"They should be jealous," announced Gail as she came into the kitchen and tossed the ice in the sink.

"How do you figure?"

"Well. I'm married to the most gorgeous woman I know, and you're married to a total hottie, and we are not available for them." Gail sidled up behind Holly and kissed her shoulder, hands resting on Holly's hips. "Because after I saw you, after I realized I wanted you, I'd found the love of my life."

Holly smiled. "You love me more than cheese puffs?"

"I do," whispered Gail. "Because you don't want me to be anyone but who I am. Because you make me a better person. Because you love me. Because fourteen years." There was another kiss and Gail reached around for the plate.

"You're very romantic when you want to be," laughed Holly. "That was not romantic."

"Its my birthday and I have a bruise the size of Manitoba on my ass." Gail took her plate and limped back to the couch.

Holly smiled. "Poor baby. You wiped out."

Indeed, Gail had gone down hard. "I can't believe it iced over already. Winter is gonna suck."

"Plus side, you aren't a patrol officer."

Gail grinned. "Very very true."

They ate listening to jazz, comfortable on the couch, and after food and showers curled up there again while she read and Gail brushed and braided Holly's hair. "You think you'll ever grow your hair out again?"

"You're fond of it short."

"True, but if you wanted it longer, I wouldn't mind."

Gail made a noise. "No, I don't think so. You ever think about going short?"

"No. I like you playing with my hair." Once in a while, on quiet nights like these, Gail would braid her hair. It was nice to be petted and pampered. "I wish we had a hot tub up here."

"Mom thinks they're unsanitary."

That would explain why it wasn't already here. "Last I checked, your mom gave you the cabin."

"Technically Dad did," yawned Gail. "It was confusing when I read the papers."

"We own it now, right? Land and cottage?" When Gail allowed they did, Holly smiled. "Okay then. I would like to build a hot tub next summer. But right now, I want to go to bed and, tomorrow, be the first to wish you happy birthday."

"Can it be naked birthdays?"

"I don't see why not," smiled Holly.

In bed, curled up together, Holly closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of Gail. There was something so uniquely her that resonated viscerally. "It's creepy when you do that," teased Gail.

Holly snuggled closer. "You smell really good. That was the second thing I noticed about you."

"Second?"

"Maybe third." Predictably, Gail poked her arm. "The beautiful face was first."

Gail was quiet. "Okay, you win."

"It's a tie," murmured Holly.

They settled down and, as sleep started to overtake her, Holly heard Gail speak. "Holly, if you're a cougar, can I be a big game hunter?"

She laughed, falling asleep with a smile on her face. Gail could call herself whatever she wanted, as long as it was also 'wife.'

* * *

 _It's funny as hell sometimes._


	21. Montréal

**Chapter 21: Montr** **é** **al**

 **Type: Angst / Family**

 **Rating: T**

 _If you can't sleep outside your own house, how well do you think a road trip to McGill will go?_

 _This is the March after Vivian and Olivia have started college._

* * *

Gail had told her not to drive. The train would be faster, for one, no traffic, and she could relax on the way there. But teenagers rarely listen. Not even one as generally well behaved as her daughter. Vivian insisted she'd be fine and drove off that morning. She laughed that was entirely possible that Gail kept tabs on her kid the whole drive out.

Of course Gail didn't. But as the night fell, she couldn't help but be more worried.

"Gail," sighed Holly. "You can't teleport there and drive her home."

"I know."

"So all this stressing out? Not helping anyone."

Gail frowned. "This worries me more than the Peck crap, her wanting to be a cop." Her wife blinked, surprised. "Undercover ops. Stake outs. There's crap where we sleep in weird places, Holly. What the hell is she going to do?"

"Can she not?"

"Kind of," she sighed. "I mean, there are jobs where you just don't. But... If people figure out _why_ she can't, she may have a very short career." As a damaged cop, Gail carried a fear that she'd be medically drummed out one day. She didn't want to think about her kid with that.

Holly's arms wound around her from behind. "You should talk to her about it."

Leaning back, Gail closed her eyes. "I did. She said it'd be fine."

"But she's nineteen and you're sure she's an idiot?"

"Well. I was at nineteen."

There was a laugh from the older woman and Holly kissed Gail's neck. "So was I. Look, what's the worst thing that happens?"

"She doesn't sleep for five days, falls asleep in the car on the drive back, gets into an accident and dies."

Holly stiffened. "You really think Viv would be that stupid?"

"I slept with Nick because I was terrified I'd never feel anything again." Gail grumbled. "And you asked."

Her wife was quiet for a moment. "I predict she will eventually get some sleep. Probably not as much as she wants, and then she will hop herself up on Red Bull and drive home. Or. If she can't, she will do exactly what she said, pick up a phone and call you, and we will drive out to Montréal so you can drive her home."

"I'd take the train."

Holly laughed and let go. "See? You're very smart."

"Passing out isn't sleeping."

"No, it's not," agreed Holly. She kissed the nape of Gail's neck. "We have to trust."

Gail sighed. "I want a TARDIS so I can keep her at seven."

"That's not how the TARDIS works, honey," said Holly, teasingly. "Look. We've raised a really smart, responsible, kid."

With another sigh, Gail dragged her feet to the kitchen. "How come you don't worry as much as I do?"

"What? About this?" Holly looked surprised. "Because this is normal. This is stupid stuff everyone does. This is … This is Vivian being a nineteen year old who has a girlfriend she doesn't see a lot. Besides, you know what I'm worried about."

True. Holly had been vocally worried about Vivian destroying a friendship and having her heart broken by a crush on her best friend. Which they both knew rarely ended well. "I'm worried about that too. And bad decisions on tequila."

Holly smiled and took the chicken out of the oven. "She's not that much of a Peck."

Gail paused and looked over. That was still very odd to her. "Did she talk to you about that beforehand? The name?"

Shaking her head, Holly got the plates. "No. But I gather she'd been thinking about it a lot."

"Doesn't that bother you? That she just decided this without ever talking to us about it even once?"

Holly sighed and leaned on the counter. "Yes and no. She's her own person, she's going to make choices like this that we don't always like. But… I think she really hated being a Green. You know how she gets when we try to talk about them."

And that too was true. Nothing made their child shut up faster than a mention of her birth family. "Which bothers me too."

Her wife had a tendency to make it all look so easy. It was as if letting go of their child was easy. Holly had been the one to teach seven year old Vivian how to ride a bicycle, letting go and chasing after until Vivian was steadily making her way through the park. Gail felt like she was having a panic attack just watching.

Sometimes Holly's ability to be calm made Gail wonder if she was crazy. Crazier. But… Gail was calm too, just in different ways. That car accident on the way to the cottage? Gail was the only one who'd been collected. It was the normal things in life that she had trouble keeping even about.

She was startled her out of her thoughts by her wife gently fluffing her bangs. "Get out of the tree, honey," said Holly softly.

"Sorry. I was being envious of your normal childhood." Gail leaned into the touch, closing her eyes for a moment.

"You're such a cat." But Holly leaned in as well. "Part of me wishes she'd picked Stewart," she admitted quietly. "But it's not about you or me here. She feels like a Peck, probably because she didn't have a normal childhood. So you're a very nice, stable, rock for her. She can see you, dealing with all that crap life threw at you, and succeeding. And I think, for Viv, it lets her feel like she can be okay."

Gail sighed and rested her hands on Holly's hips. "Stop being so damn smart."

"You love me because I'm smart."

"You _are_ the smartest person I know." Gail smiled and put her forehead on Holly's shoulder. "Mom's right, you know." Holly made a soft sound that sounded like a 'hrm?' as she looped her arms around Gail's shoulders and hugged her close. "About how much it's going to suck for her as a cop and a Peck."

Holly's sigh was felt more than heard. "Why didn't you tell her that before?"

Gail shrugged. "I kind of forgot. And I think… I think I knew it wasn't going to stop her."

Her wife snorted. "She's as bullheaded as the rest of you Pecks." Gail snickered a laugh into Holly's shoulder. "Maybe she'll change her mind. She's really getting into the engineering classes."

With a laugh, Gail let go of Holly and kissed her nose. "You have taught our daughter to appreciate things like that. I can't believe she took out Rachel's rear window with that rocket." Vivian had built, with Leo's help, a rocket that shot a camera up into the stratosphere and took photos of the curve of the earth. For fun. "She didn't even do it for school."

Smiling ear to ear, Holly picked up the plates. "Maybe that's why she wanted Steve's crapmobile. She actually _likes_ tinkering with mechanical things."

"And our Wifi."

Holly groaned. "Don't remind me." A month prior, Vivian had 'accidentally' broken the Wifi with some computer code she'd written. It had to do with overrunning a buffer from her phone's bluetooth. "I knew I should have made her keep the iPhone."

"She'd just have jailbroken it." Gail laughed and got the drinks, allowing Holly to distract her from her worries with dinner and as the cold spring rain came down, they sat on the back porch with wine and desert. Mini bundt cakes filled with vanilla cream cheese filling.

It was an hour later that Gail's watch buzzed and she glanced to see a message from her daughter. Vivian was texting to say she was fine and at Liv's dorm, and she loved them.

"So?"

"She says she's fine."

Holly smiled and ate a bite off Gail's plate. "Good. I think you should make cheese again."

"Ugh, no." She'd taken a random cooking class here and there since the first one, and while Gail did love the cooking, she'd hated the cheese making class as much as the pasty one. There was too much measuring and timing and waiting.

"Not even for my birthday?"

Gail snorted. "We went to _Rome_. And toured Europe. You're spoiled, Stewart."

"I married you for your money," admitted Holly, getting up.

"I thought you married me for the sex." Gail leaned around, watching Holly head inside.

Her wife bumped the door open with her hip and glanced back, smiling. "Well. That depends how much of this weekend you're going to fuss about our kid."

She put her head on the arm of the bench. Holly probably was just as worried as she was, but Holly was also letting their child live her life. Gail sighed. The door swung closed and a hand ran through her hair. "I'm terrified, Holly," she muttered.

"So am I," admitted Holly. "But the doctor said this was okay." The doctor being the family therapist. They all saw him once a month, or more if there was a reason. Every other month was a family session.

"He's an idiot."

Holly's fingers played with the wisps of hair at Gail's neck. "Have a little faith, Gail."

That wasn't her forte. Holly knew it. Gail knew Holly knew it. But she lifted her head up and sighed. "This is harder than the first time I sent someone undercover."

Holly just smiled. For almost fifteen years, Holly had been a cop's wife. She knew the kind of fear and tension that Gail carried every day. The stuff that got harder now that Gail was in charge of people. It wasn't a job she'd wanted or sought for, but she was good at it and she couldn't see anyone else having it. "Come with me," said Holly softly, holding out a hand.

Taking the hand, Gail followed Holly inside. They did the normal things. They locked up the house, turned on the alarms, made sure the dish washer was on, tidied the living room, and went upstairs. Vivian's door was open, the room clean and neat. When Gail paused, looking at the posters of bands and, weirdly, the one with Chris and Noelle as the faces of Fifteen from a billion years ago (seriously, that had to be from Oliver), she sighed. Holly reached around her and closed the door.

"Honey, I love that you are a caring and worried Mom," said the brunette, softly. "Trust her. Okay? She'll call us if she needs us."

Trust she had. It was just losing to fear right now. Gail nodded and let Holly lead her into their room. The balance between being a mom, a cop, and a wife was hard to keep in order. She wanted to be good at all of them, and not have one suffer for the others. It was so, so very hard.

Years ago, Holly had told her to listen to her wife. Right now, Holly was telling her not to stress about being Mom Gail and to be Wife Gail for a while. They'd raised a good kid. She was responsible, reliable, dependable, and would call if she needed help. So for a couple days, Holly and Gail could be home and pay attention to each other when they weren't at work. Which was novel. It had been quite a while since that had been the case.

And in fact Vivian didn't call. She texted a couple times, including pictures in old Montréal and the science museum. There were no selfies, though Vivian had never been a fan of those. At the end of the week of spring break, the Friday night, Vivian pulled up in the crapmobile. It was late enough that Gail and Holly were reading in bed with the door open, but they'd expected their daughter the next afternoon.

Sharing a look, they both put their books down. "How bad do you think it went?" Holly kept her voice soft.

Gail shrugged and waited for Vivian to make her way upstairs, "Hey, kiddo. How was the trip?"

Vivian mumbled a fine and went into her room. Moments later, they heard snoring. "That doesn't sound good," sighed Holly, and she got out of bed.

Following her wife, Gail peeked in the bedroom. Vivian's face looked horrible and weirdly familiar. It was like she hadn't slept the whole time she was gone. She hadn't even taken her shoes off. As Gail pulled her daughter's shoes and belt off, Holly dug the phone out and got it charging. They both looked at the watch.

Like their watches, Vivian's tracked activity and sleep. The first versions were too sensitive and would record sitting still for a movie as a nap. The current version, though... Gail carefully unbuckled it and set it in its charger. She didn't look at the settings. She didn't have to. She finally recognized the face her daughter wore, even in her pained sleep.

It was a face Gail had seen in the mirror for weeks after she left the hospital. It was a face Gail still saw on nights that Holly slept through her nightmares. It was the face of someone resigned to the horrors their mind concocted. "Oh, Viv," she sighed and brushed her daughter's hair out of her face.

Holly pulled a blanket up over her and they left her room, closing the door. If Vivian figured out her mothers had tucked her in, well, that was fine. They left her laundry alone. Back in the bedroom, Gail picked up her phone and Holly asked, "Who are you calling?"

"Texting Liv. Letting her know Viv got home safe." She pressed send and got a surprisingly fast reply.

Leaning over Gail's shoulder, Holly read the message. "Tell her I'm sorry?"

"Yeah," sighed Gail. It wasn't her worst case scenario, but it was clearly pretty bad. "She didn't sleep."

Holly exhaled and put her head on Gail's shoulder. "Let her sleep."

They did. It wasn't until Sunday afternoon that Vivian surfaced. The dark circles under her eyes were faded and their taciturn child was all but silent. When Holly asked how the drive was, Vivian said it was long. When Gail asked if she liked Quebec, Vivian said it was fine.

It was incredibly frustrating.

Vivian did the thing where she kept her thoughts to herself and started running. A lot. Every morning, with Holly and sometimes Gail, Vivian ran miles. If she didn't run, she did the exercise circuit at the park near their house. She went with Gail every week to the range, asking to use the same model as Gail's old service weapon. After bumping into Sue at the range with Gail, Vivian started doing suicide sprints and cross training.

She didn't talk about the trip to visit Liv. She didn't talk much at all. Even at their family therapy session, she just said she was having trouble sleeping and was very quiet the rest of the time. The therapist didn't seem to bothered by it, but he was patient when he needed to be. In a way, that was why Gail liked him. He didn't lie as much as some shrinks did. And he always waited to be sure rather than guessing right away. He didn't make snap judgements. He didn't make Gail record her damn dreams.

When Vivian went to her private session, she came home looking darker and more introspective than normal. More than her new normal, even.

She brightened up slightly at the party for their anniversary. The celebration was low key but she teased them both, and showing off the work she was doing in engineering. The kid had a knack for electronics and chemistry and was taking them both voluntarily, making her the only non-major in her classes.

If you could ignore the deafening silence about the trip east, and the total lack of mention of Liv, it was a success all around. Vivian was thriving at school, she was incredibly healthy, and she just wasn't happy.

That bothered Gail more than anything else.

"I just want her to be happy, Holly," she grumbled one afternoon. Vivian had gone out with some kids from her school, a little grudgingly, and returned home to lock herself in her room.

"And I don't?"

The tone from her wife was dangerous. The implication was that Gail was sounding like she felt she was a better mom... Or something. "That is not what I said," she replied quietly. "Kinda the opposite."

Holly blinked and eyed her. Fifteen years of marriage gave them insight to what was unsaid. Holly knew that Gail wasn't implying she was a better mom, but that she was a worse one for failing their daughter right now. "Why would you think you're a bad parent, honey?"

"Holly, it's almost 20 years and I can't ride in a fucking taxi cab."

The look on Holly's face softened. "Well. I still get panic attacks when I'm at the hospital too long. And of the two of us, I'm the one on anti-depressants."

Gail winced. "Maybe we're too accepting of her ... " She couldn't think of the word.

"Idiosyncrasies?"

"Yeah, that. What if we've been wrong all this time? What if we should have pushed her to go on more things?" Wasn't that what her mother had said, back when she was in the throes of being Peck? Ugh, if the Pecks were right all along, she might die.

Wisely, Holly noted, "She was fine when she went camping that summer." That was true. Weird but true. "It really may just been sleep overs."

Sighing, Gail pulled the last weed from the flower bed. "Well. Fuck."

Holly stretched. "You're getting pink, Peck. Let's get some lemonade."

Following her wife inside, Gail scowled. "Her love life is gonna suck. Hard enough to be gay, now this?"

"I suppose I'm glad you talked me out of banning sex at home," mused Holly, apologetically.

Gail smiled. "Not that being a teenager doesn't seem to have a detrimental effect on that anyway, but ... It's safe here." Especially for two girls.

"I can't imagine Nick ..." Holly grinned.

"He wouldn't." Gail pulled out the lemonade. "Hey, Viv. Hungry?"

A moment passed and their teenager came downstairs looking broody. "Can we grill?"

Gail shrugged. "If you want, I need to get out of the sun for a bit." Silently nodding, Vivian went outside and they heard the grill being set up. "That's my kid. It's an eat your feelings day."

Holly looked thoughtful and a little sad. "That's my Garbage Pail." Kissing Gail's cheek, Holly finished her drink. "I'm going to clean up the weeds. You figure out what the kid is grilling."

"Yes, ma'am," smiled Gail.

In the end, Gail and Vivian made kebabs and salad. Vivian didn't say much about anything. Cooking in silence with Vivian was nothing new. It was meditation for both of them, a way to quiet the nagging voices in the back of their brains. Cooking in silence was true silence for them both. It was peace and quiet and evenness.

Another whole month passed before Vivian said much about it. Another month inched them towards real summer, summer sessions at college, and an upcoming birthday for Holly. And what she said was a little startling. She had been on the phone in the backyard, gleaning some privacy which Gail was more than willing to grant. "She looks mad," murmured Holly.

"Yeah." Gail frowned and poked Holly's side. "Stop looking. She's nineteen. She's allowed to have her space."

Holly sighed. "How is she nineteen? She was so cute at six." They both glanced at the photo stuck to the fridge of the three of them sleeping on the big bed at the cottage. Vivian was six, Holly was exhausted, Gail was overworked, and they were sound asleep.

Reaching over, Gail moved a lock of hair on Holly's face, tucking it behind her ear. "I love you," she smiled and watched Holly's skin flush.

As they leaned into kiss, the porch door slammed and Vivian snapped, "This is your fault!"

Well that was unexpected. "Sorry?" Gail turned, leaning her hip on the counter to face her daughter.

"You always say it's fine and it's normal and it's okay," ranted the young woman. "And it's totally not! It's not okay at all! I'm- I'm totally screwed up and I hate you both, but you most." She jabbed a finger at Gail and turned, thudding up the stairs. A moment later, a door slammed.

Holly looked stunned. "Did you understand any of that?"

"Afraid so," sighed Gail. "Liv dumped her."

Her wife's eyes widened. "Oh." Holly put the sponge down. "Should I..."

"No. No I got this one." Gail kissed Holly's cheek. "I'm sure there will be some yelling."

Wet hand and all, Holly grabbed Gail's shirt. "Hang on." She took a deep breath, "No matter what she says, she loves us. Okay?" Gail started to open her mouth and Holly glared. "You get that?" Why was that familiar? Gail blinked and then smiled, remembering Holly pulling her aside to say that once, years ago, at her birthday shoot out.

"I'm her mom. It's her job to hate me once in a while, Holly. S'how I know I'm doing it right."

"Yes. You are her mom." There was an odd firmness to Holly's words.

Oh. Because Holly had been the recipient of that particular outburst, a decade ago.

"I'm her mom." Gail leaned in and kissed Holly's nose. "And so are you. She's stuck with us."

Upstairs, Vivian's room was weirdly quiet. Teenager Gail blasted music and pissed her mom off. So did Steve, as she recalled. Gail rapped on the door. "Go away," yelled Vivian.

Gail sighed and tapped on her watch, sending a heartbeat to Viv's watch.

A moment later the door opened. "Go. Away." Vivian slapped the watch at Gail, her face puffy and blotchy, but no tears it seemed. Seasoned cop that she was, Gail caught the watch and turned, stopping the door from being slammed shut with her shoulder.

"Yeah," sighed Gail. "Because you hate me and I suck."

Vivian pulled at the door, once, and then scrubbed at her face with her sleeve. "Liar."

Gail arched an eyebrow. "What did I lie about?"

"I'm not normal at all."

"I don't think I ever said you were normal, Viv." Not a one of the three of them were normal.

"Yeah, well ..." Vivian gave up on the door and rubbed her nose. "Liv agrees with that one."

Gail sighed. Vivian didn't get angry often, if at all. It always came out in weird ways though, when someone held in their anger. "Did you sleep at all while you were there?"

Her daughter's eyes got shiny, wet, and she shook her head. Then she nodded. "I may have ... Um. I can't stay awake for more than 52 hours straight, apparently."

Not and drive 6 hours, and have sex. Yeah, Gail understood that one. "Why didn't you call us?"

Vivian groaned and turned around, flopping onto her bed. "I don't know."

That was an improvement. Gail stepped inside and closed the door. Then she put the watch on its charger. "Scoot over, Monkey."

"I'm nineteen." Vivian's face was shoved into her pillow. She pulled her feet up though and made room at the end of the bed.

Gail sat down on the end of the bed. "I cheated on Nick." Vivian didn't say anything but she turned her head so one ear was up. Good enough. "He had a crush on Andy, which Chloe pointed out to me one really shitty day, and things were bad between me and Nick anyway. So I had this opportunity and I slept with a guy I didn't even like." Still nothing from the kid. "A couple weeks later, I ended up interrogating Ross Perik."

Now Vivian sat up, looking surprised. "Mom..."

"Nick watched the interrogation, which I didn't know, and I ended up telling Perik I'd cheated on Nick. He dumped me that afternoon in the parking lot at work." Gail sighed. "He said I was always going to break his heart, that I didn't really love him. That I was a terrible girlfriend. Which was really true, but it hurt to hear. And I was really pissed at him, because, see, he'd left me, twice, and I gave him two more chances. But, hey, not for me. No. Gail Peck gets but one chance to Peck it up." Gail sighed again and patted Vivian's leg.

Her daughter looked stricken. "How the hell are you still friends with him?"

"We weren't for a while," shrugged Gail. "Then I figured out I was a lesbian and I didn't care that he was in love with Andy, or didn't give me a second chance... It didn't matter. I knew who I was."

"Because of Mom," said the girl, grimly.

She wasn't a girl anymore. She was a young adult. Hell, she could legally drink now. "No," smiled Gail. "Not how you're thinking. It wasn't because I was in love with her. It was because she made me think about who I was and who I wanted to be and what mattered."

Vivian was quiet for a moment. "I don't know what I am, Mom," she whispered.

"Yeah, that's okay. I didn't until I was almost thirty, kiddo."

Hazel eyes went wide. "But... You're a Peck!"

"A very bad one," smiled Gail.

Vivian grimaced and flopped back down. "I didn't tell her." Gail had assumed as much and rubbed Vivian's foot. "I _tried_ , and ... Frank and Noelle know, don't they?" Gail nodded and Vivian sighed. "Fuck."

"They won't tell her, Viv. They only know because they spoke to the judge." Her daughter looked surprised. "It was their way of thanking me for Sophie. And they helped me get your record sealed."

"My ... Sealed? So no one on the force will know?"

Technically some of them would know. Few would look, and no more would find out. "Just who knows now. Unless the case gets reopened." Which it probably never would. The rather binding paperwork that had been filed by Vivian's remaining blood family seemed to ensure that. "Is that okay?"

"Kinda a relief," exhaled Vivian, covering her eyes. "I can't talk about it."

"Well. That's okay. I mean, don't get me wrong, it sucks, but it's okay."

Vivian lifted a hand and glared at her. "Fuck you, Mom. This is why I'm single."

It took a lot of effort not to smile. "Yes, it is. And it's why I couldn't date Chris again. And it's why I fucked up with Nick _and_ your Mom. But it's what it is. Eventually you find someone who is okay with that."

"I'm going to be a grumpy, single, woman all my days," complained Vivian. "And it really _really_ sucks because of you two."

Gail scratched her face. "Says the kid who totally orchestrated us getting our grove back when she was ten."

The smile on Vivian's face was abashed. "Lisa did that."

"Sure. After you told her you were worried we weren't in love anymore." Gail pinched Vivian's leg. "Thank you."

"Welcome."

Leaning against the footboard, Gail smiled. "We love you, Viv. So. If you have to live here your whole life with us, and take care of us in your old age, then that's what it'll be."

Vivian made a wet sound and Gail glanced over to see her daughter covering her face with a pillow. "I don't want to. I want to be everyone else," she said, her voice muffled and thick.

"Holly pointed out you went camping last year."

"Yeah."

"Did you sleep then?"

A pause. "Yeah."

"So... Can I play armchair shrink?" Mumbling her approval, Vivian didn't move the pillow. "My theory here, kid, is that you have a problem sleeping at someone else's home."

The pillow was moved. "What about Grandma and Grandpa's?"

"We were with you."

Vivian made a noise. "Great. Wanna come with me to the Academy?"

"I think you'll be okay," smiled Gail. "Your dorm room. Not you staying over at Liv's."

Her daughter's face went dark. "No worry about that anymore."

Ah. Gail squeezed Vivian's knee. "You aren't in love with her, you know." Morose, Vivian nodded. "That's okay. We all have that."

"I like her," said Vivian softly. "But ... Maybe it's just convenience."

"That's okay, too, sweetheart."

"Really?" Her daughter looked suspicious.

"No lie, we've all done it. Not saying it's _smart_ , but it's okay. There are stupider things."

"Like what?"

"Did you drink?" As expected, her daughter gave her a note perfect 'are you stupid?' look. It was the one Gail practiced in the mirror as a youth. "See? Already one up on me. Tequila and bad decisions."

Vivian sighed and sat up, hugging her knees. "What about the one in elementary school? When we went to Jellystone?"

That had been the time Vivian called from a pay phone. Gail was caught by a random thought. "Did you have any coins when you called?"

The young woman blinked. "No. I used the calling card Elaine made me memorize."

Gail groaned. "Mother..." To her credit, Vivian only smiled. "You know that was the last time you called us about it." She eyed Vivian out of the corner of her eye. Holly would hug her here. Holly could get away with that. Even if Vivian was angry, Holly's hugs were safe and comforting and made you cry.

But Gail was not Holly. She got up and patted Vivian's foot. When she reached the door, she was halted by her daughter's voice. "Mom?" Vivian's voice was soft and a little scared. "I don't want everyone to look at me and see this scared little girl."

Oh. That one hurt. Gail took a deep breath. She understood that one. She knew the agony of having one moment define you to the people whose respect you craved. Gail leaned into the doorframe. She wished like hell she knew the answer to that one. She wanted to lie to her, tell her no one could see it in you when you were broken into a million pieces, and that no one could see the pain.

But Gail didn't know. Certainly Holly saw her, breaks and fractures and all, and loved her anyway. But Holly she let in. Vivian didn't have a Holly. Vivian had Gail and Holly as moms. She didn't have the feeling of someone outside it all who saw it and understood it and cared about her anyway. Not the way a lover did. There was something wildly different about how it felt with Holly as opposed to her friends.

"I don't know," Gail finally said. "I don't know if everyone can see it or just some of us, kiddo." Turning slightly, Gail looked at her kid. "Some people see it in us. Some of our friends will see it and be our friends because of it. Some people, some it'll drive away. I don't know which."

Vivian looked morose. "Can I still be a cop?"

Without hesitation, Gail replied, "Yes." Vivian's eyes widened. "I'm a cop. Marlo was a cop, she's bipolar and kinda the whole reason Chloe got shot and I kissed your mom... I should send her a card, but she's with Swarek... Maybe I should send her a bottle of booze. That's bad-"

" _Mom_!" Vivian's voice was sharp but laughing. "Are you trying to tell me lots of cops are messed up?"

Gail smiled. "Three kinds of people, generally, become cops, kid. Idealists like McNally and Nick. People on a bit of a power trip like Dov. And then you get the broken people who know how shitty the world is and want to make it better."

Vivian digested that slowly. "Which were you?"

Gail shook her head. "I didn't have a say in it. I was going to be a cop. I was a Peck."

Enlightenment dawned on her daughter's face. "That's why you didn't change my name when you adopted me?"

"No. Neither of us changed our names, goof."

"I mean… you didn't want to pressure me to be anything?"

"Oh. Well yes. But Elaine told you how nasty Pecks are." Gail smiled sadly. Silence hung between them for long enough that, in any interrogation, would have resulted in the perp breaking and spilling everything. Vivian, raised by Gail, was much better at keeping her peace. "I'm going to rescue dinner from your mom. Come down if you're hungry."

"Okay," sighed Vivian. Then in a quieter voice. "I'm sorry I yelled."

Gail smiled. She would, one day, need to tell Vivian about the time she nearly strangled one of Andy's rookies. "I forgive you, Monkey."

In the same voice, Vivian added, "Thanks, Mom."

"That's right." When her daughter looked confused, Gail said, "I'm your mom."

Vivian blinked, still confused, but smiled. "Yeah, you are."

Back downstairs, Holly was patiently tending to dinner. "That was not as shouty as I expected."

"I learned from you," smiled Gail. "What're you making?"

"Pan seared chicken and asparagus, wild rice. Want to open some Brolio?"

Arching her eyebrows, Gail fetched the wine. "Are you trying to seduce me into moving, Stewart?"

Holly smiled gamely. "Not a chance. I like this house. I found it."

"You did not. Traci did," laughed Gail.

"If you want to be that specific, I think _Gerald_ found the dead body in the yard," teased the brunette.

Vivian's voice broke in. "Dead body? Front or back yard?"

Gail pointed at Holly. "Hah! You slipped first."

"Oh for crap's sake, Gail, it's been thirteen years!" But it had been Holly who felt it best not to tell Vivian about the way they found the house, so Gail did her dance of victory while getting the wine and listening to Holly explain about the body dump.

As Holly explained how Gail used the body dump as a way to talk the price down, Vivian laughed. It was the first real laugh she'd had since March. All of the sudden, the kid they'd raised with a dark sense of humor, just like them, was back. The girl who would dance goofily with Gail set the table, joking about how only Gail would take advantage of death like that.

She was only nineteen.

It would be years before Vivian figured out all of who she was, all that she could be, and all that she would be. Maybe she'd be a cop. Maybe she'd do some weird start-up nonsense like Leo was into. Maybe she'd go into social work. Maybe she'd be a scientist. Maybe. Maybe.

No matter what she became, Gail felt lucky to be there to watch.

* * *

 _The first loves, falling for your best friend, rarely end well. And there_ _'_ _s a little more, from Gail_ _'_ _s perspective, about the whole name and cop thing. And maybe why Holly_ _'_ _s okay with things. She has a very different insight to Vivian than Gail does, but that_ _'_ _s okay. Viv needs both of them._


	22. Copy-Cat

**Chapter 22: Copy-Cat**

 **Type: Humor / Drama**

 **Rating: T**

 _In the chapter 98 of OWtO I said if anyone guessed one of the plot-threads I left in there for the (at the time) sketchy sequel, I_ _'_ _d reward them. They got to pick a prompt, any prompt, and I_ _'_ _d write it._

" _Can you write about the time when Holly got upset with Gail's memory skills. It was mentioned in OWTO._ _"_ _—_ _rcmates_

 _Okay. We_ _'_ _re all the way back to year ONE of the fic. This is shortly before Gail was on the Pride Float. She still lives with the boys and Holly has recently started seeing a therapist._

* * *

She watched Holly drive off and frowned. Something was very wrong.

"What'd you do to piss her off?" Chris scared the shit out of her, just appearing beside her with the garbage bag.

"Nothing!" The response was reflexive, but Gail eyed her roommate and ex-boyfriend carefully. "Why?"

The tall man gestured at Holly's car as it made the turn. "She's driving mad, and she didn't kiss you."

Filing away the fact that Chris watched her kiss Holly enough to think it was normal, she scowled. "What the hell would make that my fault?"

"Beats me. You're her girlfriend."

He probably didn't know how much that hurt to hear from him. There was a tone, a way Chris said it, that made her remember exactly how shitty her last two boyfriend experiences had been. Bitterness clawed its way out of her mouth. "Am I a bad girlfriend?"

"Oh no. No no, this is worse than being asked if the dress made you look pregnant."

Gail followed Chris to the dumpster. "I'm serious. You just said she's my girlfriend like you _expect_ me to fuck up. What the hell's up with that?"

Chris groaned. "That's not what I said."

"That's what you meant."

He didn't reply to that. That wasn't a good thing. Gail couldn't claim to have a lot of experience with girlfriends and she'd already fucked things up with Holly once.

This was a problem. This was a big problem. Gail frowned and thought about it as she walked with Chris back to their apartment, showered, changed, and came back out to find the guys playing video games. "Where's princess annoying?"

"Chloe's having dinner with her folks," said Dov, sniping Chris from a railing.

Good. She chewed her lip for a whole round of the game, trying to figure out how to ask this. When Dov won and asked if she wanted to play winner, Gail replied, "No... I need help."

Chris put the controller down and looked serious. "Are you okay?"

"Gah! I need guy help... Girl help... Whatever. I need help with Holly."

Dov eyed Chris. "What did she do?"

Chris shrugged, "She won't say."

"Why do you two think it has to be my fault?" Gail threw her hands up.

Only Dov dared answer. "Because communication is not your forte, Gail."

"Screw you, I communicate just fine."

Chris hesitated. "I gotta say, Gail. You never talk about your feelings. The whole time we dated-"

"I talk about my feelings," she growled. Both men looked at her like she was stupid. "What? I do!"

Leaning towards Chris, Dov asked, "Do you think she talks about them to Holly?"

The taller man shook his head. "I think she thinks she does."

This wasn't helping. Gail stood up. "Forget it, you're idiots. I'm not asking you anymore."

And Chris ratted on her. "Holly dropped her off. Early. No kiss."

Gail grabbed a pillow from the couch and threw it at him. "Traitor." But it would take a lot more abuse to chase off Chris these days. Gail could hate it all she wanted, but she knew he loved her like a sister. "I don't know, okay!" She stomped into the kitchen and found a beer.

"Grab us a beer and tell us about dinner," ordered Dov.

So she did. They sat around the living room and she explained they'd just had a normal, relaxed dinner, talking about boring stuff. It wasn't even super personal or private. Holly had been going on about sports and while she didn't tell the boys that, she could listen to Holly babble about anything for days. Then Holly had gotten grumpy and none of Gail's normal joking made her smile, so she ended up dropped off with a 'goodnight Gail.'

"Yeah," agreed Dov. "You did something wrong."

"You are not helpful," she muttered.

"Just apologize," suggested Chris.

"For what?!" Gail grimaced and slouched in her seat.

"You gotta figure out what you did that pissed her off, and you gotta apologize."

Which was great advice and shitty advice at the same time. Because she had no idea what the hell she'd done.

The next day wasn't any better. Gail spent half the night going over the conversation in her head but to no avail. That made her extra cranky and grumpy when she got to work, which landed her working admit in back.

Around lunch time, Oliver wandered in and sat next to her. "What's wrong?"

She didn't answer, just kept reading her stupid magazine, until he put a bag of food in front of her. "Am I a bad girlfriend?"

Her friend, boss, confidant, and mentor eyed her. "You used to be." He leaned back in the chair. "You used to be a lot of things," mused Oliver. "Why do you ask?"

Opening the bag, Gail pulled out a hamburger. No tomatoes. Bless Oliver. "Holly's mad at me."

"What'd you do?"

Gail snapped a glare at him. "Why does _everyone_ say it's my fault?"

But unlike Dov or Chris, Oliver laughed and it felt okay. "Because we've dated women before, my dear." He reached into the bag and pulled out the fries. "Women are capricious."

"Aren't I supposed to know how they work? I mean, I am one..."

"While you are incredibly more mature than you were for your last fight with the beautiful doctor, you are still a rookie here, Peck." Oliver waggled a fry. "When did it happen?"

She sighed. "Dinner. We were just talking. About normal stuff." Gail took a bite out of her burger.

"Did you tell a bad joke or something?"

"No. She was telling me about the basketball game she went to with BitchTits- sorry, Lisa and Rachel. Those are her friends."

Oliver nodded. "The ones who...?"

"Yeah." She sipped the soda and smiled. It was her favorite brand of diet. "I don't get it. She was telling me about the game, and she got her story goofed."

Her friend looked surprised. "Goofed?"

Gail sighed. "Yeah, when we were eating the appetizers, she was telling me about how the first half the star guy, LeBron James, fell into Lisa's lap when he dove for a ball. But then, when I ordered desert, she said it was Rachel's lap, and I told her she meant Lisa."

Oliver's gaze sharpened and Gail felt her hackles rise. "What did she order for desert?"

"She didn't. She never does. Maybe she'll take a bite of mine... Why?"

But he went on. "Appetizers?"

"Uh, she had salmon. I had the artichoke-"

"No. No, how did she order?"

Gail blinked. "How?"

"What did she say? Exactly?"

That was weird. But she knew the answer. "Exactly?" Oliver nodded. Gail sighed. Well. Either she trusted him or she didn't. "The waiter asked what we wanted. Holly ... Are the tomatoes in the broth cooked? Because I don't want raw tomatoes." Gail paused. "And the waiter said they were raw. So Holly said... Maybe another day. I'll have the salmon tartar." Oliver was staring at her. "We split the Chateaubriand for dinner..."

The man took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. "Gail. When you corrected her about her story, did you quote her?"

Gail frowned. "No. Not at first." He winced. Okay, that was bad. "Why ... Why was that bad?"

"You quoted her to prove you were right about correcting her on her own story?" Oliver looked so, so sorry.

"Yeah... But she said- oh my god, she said she didn't get it wrong!"

Oliver reached over and put a hand on Gail's knee. "Darlin... People don't like when you correct them like that." When she opened her mouth to argue that she knew that, Oliver added, "Especially not people you date." He squeezed the knee. "Didn't you run into that with ..."

"Anyone else? No." She grimaced. "I don't think I ever listened to them." If she struggled, she might be able to remember word for word details of Nick's war stories, or Chris's stupid jock stories. Hell, once she'd pretended to not know about horseback riding, just so he would feel better... Men.

There wasn't any of that fakery with Holly. There was no pretense, no petty subversion to get what she wanted. If she wanted to have sex with Holly, she could ask and most of the time they did. She didn't have to worry about telling the truth because she always did. Things were just easier.

"You listen to everything she says?"

Gail shrugged a little. "Mostly. I mean, I kind of tune out on the science sometimes."

Oliver didn't look convinced. "What was the first thing Holly said to you?"

"Uh, besides that she belonged there because she was the forensic pathologist? She babbled about diatoms in the water and how if they were in the bones, we could tell how long the leg had been in the ... Why are you smiling."

It was a really creepy the way Oliver was smiling. "You're in love with her."

"I know _that_ ," grumbled Gail. "She's just mad that I recited her words back at her?"

"You did that when you broke up, remember?" In a manner of speaking, she had. Gail nodded slowly. "So you did two things. First, you showed her up and threw her words back in her face. Second, you reminded her about that night."

Gail frowned. "But... That wasn't what I did at all." That wasn't why she'd said anything! She'd just said the words to correct the conversation and go forward.

"I know, darlin', but that's not what it looks like. You have to tell her, see, you need to tell her you didn't realize that's how it sounded, and you're sorry, and you'll try not to do it again."

That was it? Was it really so straight forward and simple? If she'd been dating a guy, she would tell him to shut up and get over it and not care if he was mad. But ... But she really did care if Holly was upset with her. It hurt. "So I just text? Say I'm sorry?"

"The use of the word 'just' should give you the answer there, darlin' Peck." Oliver patted her leg and got up. "Think about what Holly likes. Do that."

Gail nodded and pulled out her phone. "Hey, Oliver..." When he turned around, she mumbled. "Thank you."

It took her the rest of the day to sort it out. The hard part was getting Holly's secretary, Katie, to tell her if Holly was headed to the Penny or anywhere but home. That involved bribery and a promise to take Katie to the shooting range _and_ introduce her to Salvador.

But Holly was headed right home that Friday. Early too. Gail left right from the station, stopping only to change into something a little nicer than the jeans and top she'd grabbed that morning. Then she went to Holly's favorite Chinese place and picked up her favorite order. A second stop at a bakery Holly raved about, and her collection was complete. The Netflix order could be made at the house after all.

It was only six when Gail rang the bell. "Coming," called Holly from inside. She didn't sound angry. That was good.

Of course, she also opened the door without checking, and Gail scowled. "Seriously? You still don't use the peephole?" That wasn't how she'd planned to start, but the words came out on their own.

"Gail?" Holly's body shifted into a defensive posture. Not good.

This was the wrong foot. "Crap," sighed Gail. "Can I start over?"

Her girlfriend arched her eyebrows. "You have food."

"Chinese." Gail held up the bag. "Can I come in?"

Holly pinched the bridge of her nose. "You have a key, Gail."

She did. This was true. "I also have a pissed off girlfriend because I'm not very good at this." Gail cleared her throat. "I'm ... I haven't ... Historically speaking, I'm a pretty bad girlfriend."

Holly blinked a few times and then stepped to the side. "Okay. Come in." Gail stepped inside and put the bags down on Holly's kitchen island. The brunette got plates and glasses out while Gail collected herself.

That was encouraging. There were two plates. "Can I ... Look, I've screwed up a lot with my exes. But ... I get why you were mad that I quoted you. I didn't even think about it. It wasn't like I was trying to memorize what you said. I just did, and ... Well, I'm a Peck. We're supposed to memorize things."

Taking the bags, Holly half smiled. "You memorized what I said? At dinner?"

"I didn't mean to," admitted Gail and Holly looked a little hurt. "Jesus, I'm screwing this up. Um. Not because I don't like you and ... It's ... I wasn't _trying_ to memorize anything. I was just listening."

Holly's eyebrows lifted. "You were just listening?"

Nodding a little morosely, Gail explained, "I like listening to you talk."

Taking that in, Holly put food on the plates. "You like listening to me talk, and you memorized what I said by accident. How, exactly, does that work?"

Two plates still. That was good, right? Gail took the glasses and poured iced tea. "How does what work?"

"How do you accidentally memorize things?"

"Peck." Gail put the glasses at the table and pointed at herself. "I had to learn how to memorize stuff really early. You know, listen to people while watching them?"

Holly brought the plates over and looked curious. "So you weren't paying attention to what I said?"

That felt dangerous. "I ... I don't want to answer that." The answer was both. She had been listening, but she hadn't been actively paying attention. She'd just been enjoying the story and the light on Holly's face as she told it. It had been about sports, though.

And Holly laughed. She laughed so hard she had to sit down and wipe the tears from her face. "Honey... Gail, have you ever _not_ had a relationship blow up in your face?"

Gail hesitated and then sat down beside her at the dining table. "No." She frowned. "I thought... Oliver said you were mad at me because I, er, threw your words at you."

With a long sigh, Holly took off her glasses. "I was annoyed with you. I thought you ... Well it doesn't matter-"

"Oh no no, no it matters. Holly, I'm going to screw up again if I don't know what I did wrong! And... God, I can't do that again, I can't just let myself be stupid and hurt you. I don't want to screw up with you."

Her girlfriend looked amused. "You don't want to screw up with me?"

Gail shook her head. "I don't. We already did that, Holly, and ... It's ... It's not easy but it's easy with you. I can be me and it's okay, mostly. Maybe I should- no, I know I should think before I say stuff. Think more. But we talk about stuff, and I feel like I can talk to you about anything and you're still going to like me. And, honestly, I wasn't trying to dig at you or anything. It's just that you said it, and I remember what you say, even if it's about diatoms or short tandem repeats because I like hearing you talk and I -"

Two hands took a hold of her face and drew her in for a long, slow, kiss. "You were rambling," whispered Holly, her forehead resting against Gail's. "I don't think I've seen you nervous before."

"Ask me to do public speaking," sighed Gail. Holly's thumbs brushed her cheekbones. "I'm not in trouble?"

"Hmm. Don't use your Peck powers on me again, okay?" Holly's voice was that warm, soft tone that curled around Gail and made her skin flush.

"I'll try," said Gail, as sincerely as she could.

"I thought you were making fun of me."

"Never," Gail said seriously. Holly arched her eyebrows. "I may tease you, but I would never make fun of you to belittle you. Ever."

The soft lips touched hers again. "Okay. I want to eat before the food gets cold." One last kiss and Holly let go of her. "And then maybe see what you got for desert."

Gail exhaled shakily. "Pies." She picked up her fork. "Two berry pies and two mini quiche things."

Holly looked surprised. "You hate eggs."

"Quiche is okay."

Holly shook her head. "That's really optimistic of you, you know. Getting breakfast."

"I'd like to stay," Gail said honestly.

And her girlfriend smiled. "You know I like quiche."

This was new territory. An un-fight. "Yeah. And whiskey with water, no ice. You like your steaks medium rare. Unless it's surf and turf, which you want a little more rare so you can eat the fish first." Gail picked up an egg roll and gnawed her lip, worried. "You hate lobster and you love crab. Shrimp has to be cooked right... I notice lots of stuff about you, Holly."

Now Holly looked amused. "That's not using your powers against me, Gail."

"These new rules are very confusing," whinged Gail.

Excerpt they weren't. Holly really hated people picking on her memory for non-work events. Her ability to remember timelines and dates was non-existent, unless it was science. And Gail, well, she really tried not to remember them as a protest to her parents, but she did anyway. So Holly's upcoming birthday was easy.

They watched a classic Barbara Stanwyck movie on the couch and chatted around the rules. The simple rule of noticing your girlfriend was annoyed and stopping teasing her. The obvious rule about how you didn't treat her like a suspect. Or you let her try and talk herself out. Parlay. Which Gail should have called. But also the rule about how Gail really didn't mind if Holly forgot her birthdays. It wasn't some weird and twisted girl game.

And she did spend the night. After the movie and showers and curling up in Holly's comfortable queen sized bed, Gail asked the lingering question. "Was that our first grownup fight?"

"You mean our first mature one where we talked it out? Maybe."

"I like it better than the Penny thing," admitted Gail.

Holly rolled over to face Gail and smiled. "I'm pretty fond of this mature, dealing with her shit, thing you're doing."

Snorting, Gail pointed out, "I'm the reason you're in therapy."

The doctor's slender fingers brushed her cheek. "Yes. You are. But Oliver was right. There's stuff that's hard about being in love with a cop. And it's worth it." Holly crooked her fingers under Gail's chin and slowly drew her face closer to kiss.

It was that long, lingering kiss that made Gail forget all the stupid Peck things that had been drilled into her as a child. She didn't think about anything except how it felt to be adored by someone. That was so novel and bewildering. There was someone here, now, who made sacrifices for her. There was someone who relied on her and, in turn, was reliable. Holly was someone she could trust with everything she was, even if Gail was still pretty messed up.

Gripping the front of Holly's shirt, Gail pulled her even closer, pressing herself up against her girlfriend. Maybe it was okay if she didn't get everything right immediately. Maybe it was okay to figure things out as she went along, as long as she kept talking about it with the person who mattered.

Maybe she ought to get a little more officially serious about Holly, too. Not that she wasn't really serious. But Holly had been dropping hints that she'd like to live with Gail. Would that be so bad? She could have this every night and every morning. There would be this person, this wonderful, brilliant, gentle woman who wanted to see her every day. Who fought for her.

Someone she wanted.

Someone who wanted her.

As they lay in bed afterwards, Holly's head nestled against her shoulder. It felt right. It felt like how things should be. Gail let her fingers sweep up and down Holly's bare back. "Yes," she muttered to herself, absently. If it came up again, no, _when_ it came up again, Gail would say yes. She would say yes to the change and take the next step with Holly and move in. She didn't know where it would lead, but Gail knew the most important fact.

Whenever the future led, she wanted her life to be with Holly.

* * *

 _When I originally mentioned that Gail memorized things and it used to annoy Holly, it was really just a vague thing. I've done it before because I do accidentally memorize what my better half says sometimes. While I intended this to be funnier, it slid into a reveal on Gail's thoughts as to why she moved in with Holly._

 _It was very hard to write this chapter. Chris is alive. Gail is still a little immature and uncertain about her relationship. Oliver is Oliver. Getting back into that mindset was tricky._


	23. Grand Theft Auto

**Chapter 23: Grand Theft Auto**

 **Type: Drama**

 **Rating: T**

 _In the chapter 98 of OWtO I said if anyone guessed one of the plot-threads I left in there for the (at the time) sketchy sequel, I_ _'_ _d reward them. They got to pick a prompt, any prompt, and I_ _'_ _d write it._

" _I did come up with one prompt, it's not really detailed but I figure you know where it would work better than I, but I want to see some more of my favorite platonic relationship, Gail and Oliver(I may love the Stakeout Webisode with them a little bit too much), so let's go with: Something with Young Gail and Young Oliver, hopefully something before Gail is in the Academy, I hope that is something you can work with, now to think up something else._ _"_ _—_ _judedeath_

 _Oliver and Gail, pre academy it is! Steve will be around for a little bit, as well as Bill and Elaine. But remember, this is a LONG time ago. Gail_ _'_ _s 16. Oliver is younger. Jerry and Sam are still uniformed officers and young. Roughly the age every one of our rookies are at the end of Season 6.  
_

* * *

The look in her eyes was unmistakable. It was recognizable. It was familiar.

Oliver knew that Detective Elaine Peck (neé Armstrong) had two children, after all. He was training the older one. But the younger he'd not seen hide nor hair of at the station. Steve, Steve he'd known for years. The boy used come over to see the police at work all the time. And Steve sometimes mentioned his sister, but Oliver couldn't remember ever seeing her before. Certainly he'd never seen her with black hair, which was not natural at all.

As he read the license for a third time, there was no doubt in his mind that this Peck was the youngest child of his TO. This teenager was his rookie's sister. This had to be the Gail Peck who was the heir to all the Peck shenanigans.

In front of him was a girl, giving him a dark look of annoyance. Oliver eyed the curve of her shoulders and the set of her jaw. Unbroken, but definitely bent under the weight of those idiotic Peckspectations, Gail was going to be a force to be reckoned with. Right now, she was just an angry, hurt, surly teen.

He wondered briefly if this was what Izzy would be like one day. Would she feel the weight of his career on her own back, the pressure to be something she perhaps didn't really want? Did Gail even want any of the crap the Pecks had to put on her?

Sighing, Oliver pressed the button on the radio. "Dispatch, 6416. I found Officer Peck's car."

The black-haired teenager looked surprised. "He called it in as _stolen_? God, he's such an idiot."

Oliver smirked. "He's a special boy." Dispatch asked how to report it. "Misplaced, not stolen. Scratch the report and tell Peck to contact me, 10-21." The man on Dispatch laughed and confirmed, leaving Oliver with the youngest Peck. "So. Gail isn't short for anything?"

She scowled at him. "No." And the name sunk in. Gail Santana. The chief of detectives' wife. He'd never met her, as she was dead when he'd joint the force, but he remembered seeing her name on the wall of deceased officers at Fifteen. Interesting suck-up maneuver.

Maybe the kid didn't have a sense of humor. Oliver sighed. "Okay. You know where Fifteen is. Follow me there."

Gail eyed Oliver suspiciously. "Just … follow?"

He nodded and held out the license. "Yeah, follow. Keystone and I are gonna have words."

There was a brief sparkle in her eyes as she registered who 'Keystone' was. But then her eyes got clouded. Fearful. "Do we have to go to Fifteen?"

Right away, Oliver knew what the fear was. "They're not at the station," he said quietly.

"Yeah, and my idiot brother reported his stupid car stolen." She crossed her arms. "So awesome."

Oliver would have to take care of that. "He's a rookie. Rooks are stupid." He pointed at the car. "Follow me. Come to Fifteen. I can fix this."

She didn't seem to believe him, but she did follow him back to the station. Oliver took the keys and nudged her inside. His fellow officers, Jerry and Sam and Noelle, were all still out on patrol. That was good for the kid.

"Ollie!" Steve threw his hands up. "What the hell? Why do you have Garbage Pail?"

The teenager scowled. "Steven, you're the biggest idiot on the planet." The tone was just like Elaine Peck when frustrated. She backhanded his chest, hard.

Oliver coughed. "Your sister found your car."

The redheaded Peck looked between his sister and his TO. "Shit." His face went white.

Gail rolled her eyes. "Keystone," she told him and sat down at Steve's desk. "This is your fault."

"What the hell, Gail? Why'd you take my car?"

"Seriously? I _asked_ you! Remember? I had that stupid thing this morning?"

Steve looked surprised. "Oh. I forgot."

"Clearly." She folded her arms and scowled.

"How... How'd you do?"

"Oh give up, Ginger, you don't give a shit." Gail slouched.

As Steve opened his mouth, Oliver coughed. "Peck- Steve. How about you go redact that paperwork."

"What? But Staff'll give me hell!" Oliver glared and Steve grumbled. "Fine, but I need my desk."

"Yes, you do. Come on, Petulant Peck," Oliver smiled at Gail.

The girl glowered. "Petulant?"

"Yes, you." Oliver clasped her shoulder. She didn't quite flinch, but she did shy away, clearly uncomfortable. "You and me are going to get something to eat." That perked the girl up a little. "Keystone. Lunch money."

Without argument, Steve forked over forty dollars. As Oliver led Gail to the squad car, she marveled, "He never gives money for lunch."

"He needs me to sign off so he can get cut loose."

Gail smiled at him. It was the first real smile he'd seen on her face, and it was dangerous. Her canines flashed in the light. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," smiled Oliver.

"Can I drive?"

"No, Little Peck, you may not drive my squad. And behave, or I lock you in back." While he was serious, she rolled her eyes and flopped into the car. "Have you ever had schwarma?"

Gail gave him a side eye. "What is it?"

"Oh, you are in for a treat! It's chicken, or lamb, but I think chicken is the best. And it's wrapped in a pita or a laffa, which is this floppy, massive, bread. It's so good, Peck, you're gonna love it." He headed to the restaurant, telling her all about the good food along the way.

When they got there, Gail eyed the menu. "I can't eat that."

He startled. "You're a vegetarian? They have falafel."

Gail glared. "I'm allergic to tomatoes."

The owner, Mr. Abrams, chimed in. "Officer Shaw, what's wrong? Is this your daughter?"

While Gail's glare shifted to Mr. Abrams, Oliver laughed. He patted Gail's shoulder. "No, this is my rookie's sister. I showed you photos of my girls." Gail shifted under his hand, uncomfortable. That spoke worlds to how things were going on in the Peck household. No one hugged this girl.

"Oh ho, so this is the Peck sister? And you're allergic to tomatoes?" Mr. Abrams smiled. "This is okay. Just tomatoes?"

Gail hesitated. "I don't like eggs."

The owner nodded. "I understand. Hard boiled eggs? Not so much for me." He headed into the back. "Trust me, young Peck. No tomatoes. No eggs."

While Gail looked dubious, Oliver grinned. "Trust me. Best food ever!"

From the back someone shouted, "Can the girl eat ketchup?"

Gail called back, "She can, but she thinks Heinz has too much sugar!" The cooks laughed and Gail looked perplexed. "Why are they laughing?"

"Because, my young friend. They are good people." The girl looked more confused. Good people. That was probably Peck Anathema. Poor kid. "Hey, you know I have a kid?"

"Yeah, Isabelle. My mom and my godfather were your TOs, Shaw. I know who you are."

He snorted. "Your mom, your godfather, and McNally."

"The alcoholic."

Of course she knew that. "He does an good job. He has a daughter about your age." That made Gail scowl. Little Andrea was a couple years younger than Gail. Oliver had met her once, when she'd been a pre-teen, and she'd been cute. A different kind of wary though. Andrea had the damage from a mother who abandoned her and had to grow up too fast. Gail was being forced into a mould she didn't want to be a part of.

"Sucks," muttered Gail, leaning on the counter.

Oliver lifted a hand to pat Gail's back and froze. She'd shied away every time he'd done it this far. The kid didn't like to be touched. Or she didn't trust him. Hard to say which. "You think Keystone really forgot you took his car with permission?"

"Eh, he thinks I don't have his back," she grumbled.

"Do you?" The reply was a simple shrug. "He's a good kid. He'll be a detective."

"Probably before I get my blues," mused Gail. "Peckspectations."

They clearly loomed over her more than they had Steve. His rookie Peck had been buoyed by the Peck Name. He carried it with a measure of pride and desire. This was something Steve Peck wanted to do, wanted to be. By contrast, his sister understood the reality was that she didn't have a choice. She didn't get to dream about being a ballerina or a nurse. Gail Peck was going to be a cop.

"You know, you could be anything-"

"Don't," she cut him off. "You don't understand, and you can't understand, Shaw. So please, don't embarrass yourself anymore." Gail pushed off the counter. "Can I wait in the car?"

Oliver nodded. "Sure. Don't drive off." He tossed her the keys and half-watched as she sat in the passenger seat and folded her arms. Sulking.

The sulk was worse when they got back to the station and there were three Pecks. "Shit," whispered Gail and Oliver at the same time.

"Gail," said Elaine, sternly. "Come here."

There was an odd mixture of defiance and defeat. Her head hung low but her eyes were sharp and angry. "Mother," she said carefully.

Oliver cleared his throat. "Elaine, she was with me-"

Cutting him off, Elaine noted, "Oliver, now is not the time." He pressed his lips together and fell silent. "Your brother's car."

"He wasn't using it," Gail remarked, her voice tight. "He came to work with Dad."

"He did. But that doesn't give you permission to take his car."

Except as both Gail and Steve had said, it was with permission. "Mom- Detective, I told you, I was wrong," insisted Steve.

"You filed the report, Steven," the Peck matron replied. "I've talked to Al, he'll make sure charges are dropped."

Gail winced. "Fine, whatever," she grumbled and shoved her hands in her pockets.

"Don't slouch, Gail, dear." Elaine looked past her daughter and spotted Oliver. "Oliver, since Steven will be spending the rest of today cleaning up this paperwork mess, could you do me the favor of watching Gail?"

Under her breath, Gail muttered, "I'm old enough to take care of myself."

Elaine's eyes were sharp. "Clearly not. You will stay here with Officer Shaw until Steven is done with his shift, and then he will drive you home."

As one, the Peck siblings mumbled, "Yes, ma'am."

Okay, Oliver had to memorize the moment. This was the first time he'd ever seen his pesky Peck rookie kowtow to anyone. Sadly he thought he now understood the dynamic at the Peck home. "Gail can help me with my paperwork," he told Elaine with a bright smile.

The return smile from Elaine was the one that didn't reach her eyes. Except she winked at him. It was fast. It was subtle. If he hadn't been studying her face, he might have missed it. Something else was up with Elaine. He missed how she'd been when she was Constable Armstrong. _That_ Elaine was fun. She'd sung karaoke (Natural Woman) with him when he was cut loose.

This Elaine, Elaine Peck, was … well she was a Peck.

Oliver really missed Elaine Armstrong sometimes.

Without a word, Gail followed Oliver to his desk and sat in the empty chair, watching everyone walk around the station while picking at her food. "You know, that schwarma's better inside than out."

"It's okay," she mumbled, picking at it more.

"That's teenager for 'it's really good, thanks,' isn't it?" He smiled at her. "This is good. This is good for me. I need the practice. I've got two girls already." He shook his head. "Girls are easy and hard. I'm the best at painting fingernails, though."

Gail glanced at Oliver like he was losing his mind. "You're creepy. Did anyone ever tell you that?"

"I embarrass the hell out of my girls," he smiled. "What about you? Your parents ever embarrass you? Cheer at sports?"

"I don't do sports," remarked Gail, dully, her eyes tracking Jerry and Sam as they shoved each other.

The memory struck him. She had said there was a thing. Steve had asked how she did. "What was the thing you did this morning?"

The blue eyes sharpened on him. "Doesn't matter."

"Ah, come on. I bought you lunch."

"Steve bought us lunch," she noted. She was sharp and fast. It was sort of fun to watch.

Oliver tossed his pen onto his desk. "Yeah, okay, Keystone bought us lunch. But he asked about a thing."

Gail slouched more in the chair. "I was at the regional shooting… you know, it really doesn't matter." Kicking her chair around, Gail pulled his paperwork over. "And you're really slow at this."

Regional shooting what? Oliver tapped on the computer. What was the name of the site the rookies used? Yahoo was passé. Google! That was in. He typed in 'regional shooting competition' and got a ton of bites. No. Hits. Lots of hits. Oliver added in more terms: Toronto and girls.

There it was. The Toronto Regional Under-Eighteen Competition Target Shooting. And there, on the list of competitors, was Gail A. Peck, aged 16. The scores weren't listed. "I need to make a call," he said to Gail, who was busy fixing his reports. "Hey, Peck? In private?"

The girl looked up, surprised. "You don't have a cell phone?"

Oliver looked at her, equally surprised. "Do you?" She nodded and held up a Nokia. Of course she did. "Your mother loses hers all the time." He did actually have a cell phone, though. The division had subsidized it recently, so Oliver punched in the number and went to a quiet place to call.

After explaining nothing was wrong and no one was in trouble, but yes, he was the police, they told him. She'd come in first place. By a long shot. Gail had swept the competition and her family seemed to not notice or care.

"Who's the grumpy teenager?" Frank scared the hell out of him.

"Gail Peck," sighed Oliver, shoving his phone away. "Elaine and Bill's youngest."

Frank winced. "Yikes! How'd you end up with her?"

"No one else pays attention to her." Oliver watched her for a moment. "Frank? One day you're gonna have kids. And when you do, promise me you're gonna be there for them and listen to them. Okay?"

His friend snorted. "Ollie, you are looking at a free man. I am officially divorced."

Oliver smiled and patted Frank's shoulder. "Give it time, brother. Give it time." He walked back to his desk and sat down. "So where's the gun?"

Gail looked up, not really surprised. "Home. I locked it up and by the way, you should lock your computer when you walk away. I could access the whole system from here." She was going to be trouble.

"First place, too." Oliver picked up one of her fries. "Think you can outshoot me?" She gave him a droll look. "Yeah, I bet you can't."

She leaned back. "My gun's at home." The challenge was accepted. They were just haggling now. "Besides, you've probably never done a target shoot."

Okay, fine. That was true. "What're the rules?" She leaned over and tapped on the keys, bringing up the rules. They argued about them for a while, how that of shoot didn't represent the reality of policing at all. And then Oliver asked. "How come they don't ..." He waved a hand.

"Long story, doesn't matter," sighed Gail. "Like you said, it's not reality."

Oliver snorted and logged off the computer. "Come on, Peck. You got your licenses?"

The teenager was surprised. "My shooting... Yeah."

"Good. I'm signing you in. You kick my ass, I buy you lunch the next time I see you."

She narrowed her eyes. "Okay."

As she got up, he asked, "You're not going to ask what happens if you lose?"

"Please, old man." Her look was pure disdain.

At the range, he checked her out with a .22 and quickly found out she wasn't kidding. The girl could shoot and had better discipline than most cops. In a steady, quiet, situation, she was impressive. Given the way she reacted to her parents, though, stress would be a factor. It always was. He'd screwed up his own test thanks to that.

It was unlikely the Pecks would warn her. He wasn't sure how he could. He wasn't sure if he should.

And as she promised, she totally outshot him. She kicked his ass. "So. No tomatoes?" He tried to look impish.

That he remembered seemed to surprise her. "I liked the schwarma. You can do that again."

"Yeah? You gonna come back and hang out?"

Gail rolled her eyes at him. "Please. You think Herr Peck's done punishing me for the car?"

That was a new title. "Herr Peck." Oliver grinned. "She didn't used to be like that, you know." Gail gave him a look that clearly did not believe a word he said. "No, no, I'm serious. When your mom was my TO, she wasn't dating your dad yet."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying maybe give your mom a break?"

Handing the gun back to the desk clerk, Gail jerked her chin at the wall. "See that, Shaw? That plaque?" He followed her gesture to the plaque listing the winners of the police competition shoot. "Name on there is Elaine _Peck_. Not Armstrong. Ever."

Oliver stared at the plaque. She was right. "Which means what, little Peck?"

Rolling her eyes like he was an idiot, Gail grumbled. "Figure it out."

Likely she meant that Elaine was a Peck now, and that was all that mattered. Oliver didn't get much of a chance to figure anything out. When they got back to his desk, Elaine was waiting.

"Oliver, you'll have a ride along tomorrow."

He blinked and looked at Gail who had already schooled her expression. He'd seen the look before. It was perilously close to the look of someone who'd been beaten down, not physically, but emotionally. There was no loving support here. "I… Okay," he said slowly.

"Gail, you will come to the Division with your father in the morning."

The teenager barely nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Your brother's changing. Where's your bag?"

Gail walked over to Oliver's desk and picked up her backpack. "I'm ready, ma'am," she said quietly.

Oliver smiled at her. "Good. Good. See you tomorrow, Petulant Peck."

To his surprise, Elaine looked at him. "Petulant?"

"Well," he drawled. "I have to identify you Pecks somehow. Detective. Sergeant. Rookie." He pointed at Gail. "Petulant."

And Elaine's lips quirked in a smile she was suppressing. "I thought Steven was Keystone."

Oliver squinted at her. "There's... yeah, there's that too." He missed that Elaine a little bit. That was his Elaine.

"Yes, there is." She nodded. "Come along, Gail."

Watching Gail follow her mother, Oliver sighed. That was a kid who was going to have a ton of issues. Maybe he could do something about it with her tomorrow. He and Zoe talked about it at dinner, bouncing their newest baby on his knees, watching Izzy draw.

Zoe was less sympathetic to things, mostly making Oliver promise that he wouldn't use his job to bully his daughters. She didn't really understand his job, even though they'd married while he'd been in blue. Sammy always said it wouldn't last, but there they were, almost ten years together, still making it work.

The next day, with little idea of how to help his little Peck, Oliver watched Gail slide in the shotgun seat of 1504.

"Okay, Peck, there are rules."

She buckled in, the baseball cap pulled snug over her black hair. "Like what?"

"Well," sighed Oliver. "I'm Oliver. Oliver Shaw. I'll be your t- your teacher today until further notice. You don't touch anything in the car until I tell you to. You don't write anything down in your memo book until I tell you to. You don't talk to other people you look at me first. You do as I "say" not as I "do". Got it?"

Gail nodded. "Sounds like a TO talk," she muttered.

It was. He'd learned it from Gail's mother. "Look, Peck. I know you probably think right now I'm being a bit of a hard ass but if it gets stressed out there I will be. Because my job, my job is to keep _you_ safe. This crest on my shoulder, this represents you, Peck. And we're both going home today."

The snarky teenager looked at him curiously. "Talk needs work." And she slouched in the chair. "I don't have a memo book."

"You're not my rookie, kid, you're my ride-along." He put the car into gear. "You do what I say, okay?"

"Fine, whatever," she replied.

Oliver laughed. "Well I'll be damned, you _are_ a normal teenager." She gave him a glare, but it slid off him like water off a duck's back. Somewhere in there was a normal kid, hiding out and waiting it out. "So. Why is Elaine making you do this?"

"She's proving a point," explained Gail. "This is what's important. Not college. Not Europe. Not frittering away."

Huh. "And borrowing your brother's car for a target shoot is frittering?"

"They haven't cared about that for seven years," she sighed.

"Well that. That, darlin' Peck, is stupid. Because you? You are an amazing shot." He half expected her to smile at that. "What happened seven years ago?"

She exhaled loudly. "God. You're so needy, Shaw." But he waited. "Came in sixth."

That sounded like ... That sounded like Harold Peck. "Ah," Oliver replied. And the girl nodded. "That. That's taking away all the fun in it, you ask me."

"Fun?"

"Yeah. Skill like that oughta be fun." He pursed his lips. "If I were you, my little Peck, I would find a bunch of people who don't know and challenge 'em to a competition style shoot."

She blinked. "Hustle them?"

"Yeah, yeah, exactly."

Gail stared at him for a while. Then she made a 'huh' sound. Silently applauding himself, Oliver beamed. He'd done ride-alongs before with citizens. This was the first time he'd done it with a Peck, and Oliver had to admit it was different. She didn't ask questions about being a cop, or how things worked, or anything at all.

In a way, it was kind of boring.

Maybe if he took her to lunch again. Not the schwarma. Mexican. No, she didn't do tomatoes. "Peck, what do you like to eat? Burgers?"

"Sure. Pizza's good, too."

He eyed her. "Were you funning me about the tomatoes?"

Gail looked surprised. "No. No, it's just raw ones. The salad had raw tomatoes."

"Really? That is oddly specific." He smiled. "Pizza! I know a great joint. You and me, kid, we're getting pizza!"

"You're such a child, Shaw." But the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile.

He laughed at her, turning the car towards his favorite pizza joint. "You say that now. You have not begun to see me childish."

The radio went off as they laughed, Dispatch asking for a unit to help at a domestic scene near their location. Oliver was prepared to keep driving when Gail spoke up. "We're two minutes out, Shaw."

Damn it, of course she knew exactly where they were. "We are, we are." Oliver reached over for the radio. "Dispatch, 1504 with a ride-along. I'm two out."

"1504, copy and noted."

Oliver scowled. "You're going to stay in the car, understand?"

She rolled her eyes. "Take the next right, there's construction you need to avoid."

"Thank you," sighed Oliver. He pulled up at the building and frowned more deeply. They'd had six calls to that building in the last few months. Noelle had called it dangerous and deadly.

Gail reached for her seatbelt. "They didn't say anyone was armed or anything," she noted.

Still. Not going to happen. Oliver got out, he looked at Gail sternly. "Stay in the car."

"Come on, I'm supposed to get a life experience, not sit in a car all day," complained Gail.

He pointed at her. "Stay. In. The. Car." His tone seemed to surprise her. "This is not a place for you to run around. Stay in the car, keep the doors locked. Anything happens, ping my radio."

Gail frowned but nodded. "Yes, sir," she said carefully.

At least she showed she could, and would, listen to him in the right moments.

Oliver walked towards the building. "Dispatch, 6416. On site."

"Copy 6416. Be advised, there have been reports of gunfire." Crap. He looked back at the car and saw Gail, seatbelt off, watching him. From the distance, he could see her rolling her eyes. Of course.

His radio crackled a second time. "6114 on scene." And then, "6183 on scene, brother."

It was Sam and Jerry. Oliver smiled. "6416. I'm at the front of the building," he said.

As Sam took the back and Jerry was at the fire escape, it made him feel better. Having the kids, not the rookies anymore but still the new kids, having his back helped. They entered the building by the book, checking each floor carefully. He met up with Sam on the third floor.

Sammy sighed, "You ever think these are hoaxes?"

"This building? Never."

"How come you're flying solo today?"

"Got a ride along," explained Oliver. They stopped at the unit and listened. A thump and a cry of pain. "Police," shouted Oliver. "Open up!"

There was a clatter but the door didn't open. "Jerry, eyes up," Sam called into his radio as Oliver kicked the door in. The man had a gun and a bleeding woman on the floor. "Shit," said Sammy, surprised.

"Gun down, hands up," ordered Oliver. "Now!"

He didn't. Of course. He shot at them. Sammy hit the deck and Oliver squatted. The man ran for the window. "Jerry! He's on the run!" Sam scrambled to his feet.

"Sammy, stay here. Call a bus." Oliver ran after their shooter. "Jerry, gimme eyes!"

"Running up, Ollie," replied a scared sounding Jerry. The report of gunshots echoed. "Crap, he saw me!"

Well great. Oliver stuck his head out the window and holstered his gun. Go. Go. Go. Oliver pushed all the fear out of his head and rushed up the ladder. Don't look down. Don't think about anything. If he shot, the small target of Oliver's head might save him. He was starting to go bald, though, which didn't help. There were more shots and Oliver kept climbing, ignoring the terror.

They weren't at him. Nothing whizzed past. Oliver swung over the railing. "Come on, man," he shouted at the man. "You're gonna run out of bullets. This isn't TV."

The man turned, eyes wild. "I had to do it! She was crazy!"

"Hey, brother, I hear you. Okay. My wife? Totally nuts. But you know, you know that's women." Oliver rested a hand on his belt, near his gun. "So. Let's put the gun down."

The man grabbed his own head, the gun pointing up. "No no no. No. I _shot_ her, man! I shot her, you can't go back! You can't unshoot people." He tugged at his hair. "Stupid, stupid women." The man walked backwards to the edge of the roof.

"Whoa, my man, do not jump. Okay? That? That there is no coming back from. Shooting, well, you shot her. But she's not dead yet." Oliver lied. He had no idea.

"She's not?"

"She's not. So you, you can come back from this." Oliver made a hands down motion. "So you just put the gun down?"

The man turned around, his back to Oliver, and he sobbed. "She's not dead. Damn it."

Uh oh. "Brother, put the gun down."

"She's not dead!" He screamed it into the wind. Swinging the gun around, the man looked down. "Damn women." He fired down towards the street and Oliver heard glass break. The man kept firing until the gun clicked.

Oliver took advantage of the moment and tackled the man, driving him into the gravel of the roof. "Damn, man," he grimaced.

A heartbeat later, semi-automatic weapon fire broke out. The man screamed in terror, which let Oliver cuff him. "They're back."

"Who's back?" The man just whimpered, though, and Oliver grabbed his radio. "Jerry, what the hell's going on down there?"

"Freakin' Anton Hill's guys just blew a hole in your cruiser."

Oliver felt his blood run cold. Oh Jesus. "Jerry! My ride along!"

"She's fine, Shaw. She was out of the car and safe. Here. Wait, kid, tell him you're fine."

A surprisingly calm Gail spoke into the radio. "You get the guy?"

Of course that's what she wanted to know. "Yeah, yeah I did."

By the time he got the man down and tossed into the back of Jerry and Sam's cruiser, the bus and the backup were there. He sat by Gail on a brick fence, watching them haul his cruiser off.

"Well. That was educational," she remarked. Cool as a damn cucumber.

"You sure you're okay?" The bullets had been nowhere near him, but it sure as hell scared him. Oliver couldn't imagine why the teenager was taking it so casually. Someone had shot at the car she was in. Someone could have killed her if she hadn't been smart enough to get out of line of sight. What was her home-life like if Gail thought this was normal or acceptable?

Gail leaned back. "Does it matter?"

That wasn't what Oliver had expected. "Darlin' of course it matters," he sighed. "Someone took a potshot at you."

"They shot at the car," she corrected. "Besides, I better get used to it. Right?"

God how he hated that. He hated the look in her eyes. He hated the walls that said she was accepting a life she didn't want. Oliver hated what the Pecks had done to this girl he barely knew. "This … This is your life. You don't have to—"

She cut him off with a dry, not-funny, laugh. "Right." Bitter. She was bitter and jaded and barely sixteen. "I'm a Peck, Shaw. I'll be a cop."

Beneath the bravado, the swagger, he caught the glimpse of a scared kid. Oliver sighed. "You can be the kind of Peck you want to be, Gail," he said softly. The blue eyes narrowed at him, distrustfully. But she didn't argue that.

He saw her around off and on after that. She didn't come to the Division very often, but sometimes Oliver would catch her perched on Steve's car in the parking lot, reading or doing homework. Her brother would always be happy to see her, but cautious, as if unsure of her capricious moods. As she got a little older, Gail showed up at the Penny. First she was Steve's designated driver, picking him up. Then she would have a beer with her brother.

But those eyes never really seemed to trust the world. She always regarded people, even Oliver, warily as if she was sure he'd turn on her. Gail did always say hello to him, easily calling him Ollie no matter how many times he asked her not to. She seemed to know he wasn't really serious about that.

Once, only once, he asked her if she was sure. "Darlin', you don't have to be a cop," he reminded her at a cook out years later.

She shook her head and picked up a burger. "You still don't get it, Oliver," she sighed. Twenty-two and in college, Gail's hair was bleached blonde and her makeup set to kill. She looked ready to break hearts and, if Steve's trip to Las Vegas was any indication, she had. There had been some talk about a wedding, but that hadn't seemed to have happened. "It's not about what I want to be. It's what I have to be."

"You don't have to be what they want."

Gail looked over the crowd and bit into her burger. "It isn't that," she said after she swallowed. "I don't have to be this for them."

But she didn't explain why she had to do it. Not to Oliver.

Not long after that, when rookie officer Peck showed up at Fifteen, it was with a little trepidation that Oliver watched her step into the Division. She arrived with bottle blonde hair and a skip in her step, much to his surprise. Her father, Inspector Peck, dropped her off, and Gail was excited to be there. It didn't really match the grumpy, petulant Peck he'd met before. Maybe the years really had changed her that much.

Oliver wasn't so sure.

Even though he was tasked with McNally, daughter of one of his TOs, Oliver peeked at Gail's record. She was top of the class in most things but didn't seem to have any friends. That sounded like his Peck. She was apart from her class at Fifteen, too. She sat with Steve and not them. She wasn't involved in their things, like camping or going out after.

She was isolated.

One day he hoped she'd find someone to open up to, but it probably wasn't going to be him just yet. The best Oliver could do was keep an eye on her.

* * *

 _There you have it. Young Oliver and young Gail, in their first real meeting. Also the alluded to ride along where Gail was shot at, and the reason for the birthday hustle. Only good things come from Oliver. Gail isn't really calm, by the way, about being shot at. To Oliver, she looks calm, but he's comparing it to everyone else. Gail was scared shitless. Scarier than being shot at though was the idea of her parents knowing she'd embarrassed them, so she's hiding her feelings. And all that stupidity is why she has so many issues later. Oliver suspects it, but he's only just met her. In a few years, he'll know better and hug her and she'll let him.  
_


	24. Three Strikes

**Chapter 24: Three Strikes**

 **Type: Drama**

 **Rating: T**

 _As requested, a fic with Detective Frankie Anderson. It's basically "Three times Frankie Anderson tried to get a date and struck out."_

 _This takes place in three time periods in the fic. Telling you exactly which might give things away. This begins after 5-11 (season five finale). Yes there was an explosion and an inquest, but no, Steve wasn't corrupt. Marlo's IA investigation was closed because there was nothing to find. Ted was just insane._

 _This also answers the question of what did Gail do that made Sue think she owed her a favor._

* * *

She had to admit, Steve had been right. Gail was pretty hot. Heart-breaker looks. Heartbroken looks. She looked like the kind of girl who would break your heart into a million pieces if she wanted to, or if you fell for her. Thankfully that wasn't Frankie's style.

What had he told her? "All I'm saying is she's single, she's funny like me, and you did say you'd totally date me if I was a chick."

"Don't say that," Frankie had scowled at him.

"What? That you'd date me?"

"No, don't say chick. It's demeaning." Frankie remembered sighing. "How long has she been single?"

Steve had looked thoughtful. "Three or four weeks, I think."

Frankie rolled her eyes at the memory. Right now Steve was on leave, which is what happened when your prints were all over the recovered evidence after the bombing. But even though he'd been cleared by Cruz's inquest, Steve decided he wanted a bit of a vacation.

To fill the void for him and Detective Nash, his girlfriend, Frankie was hauled over to Fifteen. And today, she was assigned to work with the younger Peck and try to figure out what caused the bomb as well as, per IA's request, make absolutely sure that Gail was not attempting to cover for her brother. It was an evil thing to do, Frankie thought, but she knew why it had to be her. Frankie walked up to Gail's desk and cleared her throat.

Without looking up, Gail bit out, "What?"

"Charming."

The blue eyes slowly looked at her. "Can I help you?" While she smiled, there wasn't an ounce of warmth in her tone or eyes. This was not the female version of Steve. Steve was at least fun.

Frankie held out her hand. "Detective Anderson."

"Yeah," said Gail dismissively. "I know. Oliver pointed you out at Parade." Gail turned back to her work. The file wasn't anything they were supposed to be working on.

"Ambulances?"

Gail slapped the file closed. "What do you want?" The words were bitten off.

Holding up her hands, Frankie stepped back. "You're on the destroyed evidence?"

"I'm reviewing inventory," she replied, scowling. The screen before her pinged and Gail's attention turned to that. Even Frankie could see that Gail had been keeping herself occupied while a search ran. Fair enough.

"Bet you wish you got out of that uni before this happened, huh?" Frankie took the seat beside Gail and fired up the computer.

The blue eyes flickered over. "Excuse me?"

Frankie tilted her head. "You're a Peck, right? Used to be some kind of police royalty." The blonde turned away and looked at her screen. "Too bad you didn't get a bump to D before all this. Steve-o being investigated kinda brings you down."

"Kinda doesn't," she replied, tapping on the keys.

"Ow," laughed Frankie. Clearly she didn't want to talk.

Gail kicked her chair around and stared at Frankie, annoyed. "Do we have a problem, Anderson?"

She pointed at Gail's name tag. "I'm just saying, it's gotta be tough. You got questioned about it, and yeah he was cleared, but now we're still looking and they put you on this. Everyone's questioning your motives for being put on this detail. Maybe you're just covering and Steve did it."

"I've never taken anything in my entire life," said Gail, thinly. "And if you have a problem with me being assigned to this, take it up with Staff Sgt. Shaw, or Inspector Jarvis." She swiveled her chair back.

"Sure, sure," replied Frankie. "Not that it matters now, though, does it?"

Gail was surprisingly quiet as she replied, "You know what… You can whisper about me. You can second-guess everything that I do. It doesn't bother me. Because I can work alone and I can eat alone. I really don't need people to trust me."

There was something else though. Something really painful sat under all of that. Unlike Steve, Gail was clearly wearing the Peck mantle differently. Frankie wanted to take her out for a drink and talk about Steve, about being a Peck. But she had a job to do. "That was good. That was like seven lies in a row."

"Whatever your problem is with my brother, it's not with me," Gail remarked and went back to her work. Just like that, Gail tuned her out. Frankie laughed, a little impressed.

The silence between them lasted a while. It was nearly lunch when Frankie attempted to start up the conversation again. "What do ambulances have to do with this?"

Gail dropped the pen in her hand. "Jesus. Nothing." She leaned back in the chair and pushed the heels of her palms into her eye-sockets. "Why are you here?"

"Me? Someone... Someone had to help."

"Yeah, but if it's because that guy died, why not send in Callaghan? He knows Fifteen. And he has a better close record. Hell, why not Rosati? Shit, I'd watch both of them just to see McNally loose her shit."

Those were questions Frankie herself had asked when they pulled her in. "Couldn't tell you," she lied. Frankie knew why. It was becuase she was an outsider, mostly, and had a reason to be there. She looked at Gail's computer. "What's that? Build a bomb workshop?"

Gail lifted her hands up. "You ever do an ETF rotation?"

"Hell no. Crazed adrenaline junkies are not my type."

With a displeased snort, Gail reached for the phone and called someone named Tran. Frankie listened in as Gail read off some of the evidence. "Hey! Hey, you can't do that!"

"Hang on, Sue, I'm working with a moron." Gail covered the mouthpiece. "She's a cop."

"She's not cleared to work on the case. You know that."

"Then clear her," Gail said, firmly, as if Frankie was an idiot. "That's your job." She turned back to the phone. "Sue, can you come to Fifteen? Great, thanks... Yes, I'll buy lunch." Gail's hand clicked the receiver a few times and then she called another number. "This is Officer Peck. I need the usual for two."

Frankie frowned. "Three?"

"You're eating?" Gail sighed. "Three. Yes. I'll be there." As she hung up, Gail said, "You're paying."

"I thought I was getting this Tran person cleared."

"Sue Tran," corrected Gail and she rattled off a badge number. "Get her cleared before she gets here and I'll pay."

"Challenge accepted."

Frankie had no problem clearing Sue Tran, who turned out to be an interesting person. She was witty like Gail, but more of an adrenaline junkie. They chatted about Dov, Epstein she supposed, and then Gail showed Sue a list.

"Oh wow," muttered Sue. "Where's the arson report?"

Looking at Frankie, expectantly, Gail cleared her throat. "Hey, Homicide? The report? Or are your overlords locking it down?"

With a sigh, she handed the file over. "Ixnay on the overlords-ay," muttered Frankie.

"What the hell, does she think I'm five?" Sue took the file and smirked.

"She's not very smart," sighed Gail.

Sue's eyes and mind, apparently, were only for the file. She grabbed a blank notepad off Gail's desk and started scribbling things. The room. She was drawing the evidence room. "The fire started here," explained Sue. "Gail, I need more pens."

Without turning a hair, Gail pulled open her drawer and showed off a horde of colored pens. "The desk is there," she noted, tapping the paper.

"Perfect. Thanks. Fire here, burn pattern goes like this and then out. Destroying the hard drive, of course… But look. If you were going for maximum damage, you'd plant your bomb here." She circled an area further away from the fire's origin.

Frankie frowned, leaning over. "Why?"

It was Gail who answered. "Items closest to the origin point tend to survive in weird ways."

Sue grinned. "Full marks, Peck."

With a shrug, Gail explained, "You told Dov that enough times."

What did Epstein have to do with all this? "That's great. That's great. But what if the mad bomber put it in the wrong place?"

"Possible," admitted Sue. "But that makes them really lucky. What was supposed to be here?"

Gail pulled up the list again. "Some crap we grabbed from the Vinnie the Quitter case." She rattled off the items.

"Yeah. From a restaurant, right?" Sue grinned. "Here's what happened."

And the ETF officer explained that the apron with blood on it also had grease from the restaurant based on the mass spec results. On the shelf above was a 'spent' container from a huffing case. Behind the apron was a battery. The close combination had an accidental incendiary reaction.

Frankie blinked. "The bomb built itself?"

"That's my understanding," nodded Sue.

"Can you prove it? With math and science and shit?" Gail was grinning, entirely pleased with herself.

Sue grinned back. "You bet your ass I can."

Kicking her chair, she spun back to face Frankie. Gail gestured with both hands. "Crime solved, Homicide." Gail stood up and swaggered over towards Oliver's office. "I'm gonna go tell my boss— Oh. If that's okay?" She pivoted on the steps and fired finger guns at Frankie, not waiting for an answer.

The woman was insufferable. "God," muttered Frankie.

"She's always like that," smiled Sue. "Did I just solve the bombing case for you?"

"Um. Yeah… Yeah you did. Hang on. My boss is gonna want to talk to you."

It took a few more hours, but the case was closed in 'record time.' There was a moment where Frankie realized she could take the credit for everything. Steve probably would have. Gail might have… But that woman was too damn smart to sit in a uniform all her days. So Frankie told the truth. It was Gail who'd put it together, called in Tran, and figured it out.

Case closed, Frankie went back downstairs to tell Gail they were done. "We're good, Peck."

"I'm awesome," remarked Gail, smirking but not really at Frankie. She seemed to live life as if everyone else was a joke.

Frankie eyed Gail curiously. She was smart. She was walled off as all fuck, but she was clearly intelligent and witty when she wanted to be. "You know, if you ever want to toughen up, come see me. We could use a few more women in Homicide."

Not looking over, Gail shoved the weird ambulance file into her bag. "Yeah, because homicide is so very tough. Everybody that you deal with is dead," she replied. There was a dismissive tone to the words. As if she felt Frankie wasn't worth her time. "Try working the streets."

So that's how it was. "You know what? You're right." Frankie leaned her hip against the desk that had been hers. "So, so true. Hardest thing about Homicide is not getting brain matter on my nice, pretty clothes." Stretching her arms up, Frankie added, "You probably don't wear nice clothes, so you wouldn't know."

Now Gail looked up. "My _god_ you're insufferable."

"You would know," smirked Frankie.

Gail sighed. "What is your problem? You don't know me, so whatever stupid mind-game IA has you playing with me, can you please consider it done?"

Frankie blinked. "What?"

"I said whatever IA has you doing, can it be done now? Because, _Frankie_ , and by the way, that's a stupid name for a grown ass woman, I'm tired of it. You don't know me, you don't know my brother, and you don't know Pecks."

Part of her was delighted that Gail realized it was an IA thing. Part of her, though… Part of her was pissed. And Frankie let that part win. "Boston cream, baseball, Tom Petty." Gail blinked and looked at her in surprise. "This is where you say 'Oh, that's weird she knows Steve's favorite doughnut, sport, and singer.'"

"Francesca," said Gail abruptly.

Awesome. She knew Frankie's real name. Not that it was hard to guess. "Yeah. Me and Steve made detective at the same time. We worked Drugs together, we worked Vice together. We were undercover together the last time—" Frankie cut herself off. The last time Steve went undercover, his sister was kidnapped by a serial killer. "So yeah, I know Steve," she pushed on.

Gail had the grace to wince a little. "Look, I'm s— I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're a good cop." Frankie put her hands on her hips. "You did good work today."

Both of Gail's eyebrows went up, her face curling into a sneer that clearly said she didn't need Frankie's approval. "Why don't you go tell your bosses that."

"Oh I will."

She got reamed out for letting Gail catch on, though Ward pointed out that Gail, not being an idiot, would have caught on anyway. And since the case was actually solved, it didn't matter in the slightest.

After Jarvis railed into her, Frankie went back down to the floor and found Gail in her civvies, headed up for the day, but eyeing her phone. "How'd you know it was IA?"

"I'm not an idiot." Gail stared at her phone and then shoved it away. "Now can you shut up?" She frowned.

"You don't like me."

"I don't like anyone," countered Gail, picking up the empty mugs off her desk. "I hate slobs."

Frankie looked at the desk she'd borrowed and sheepishly cleaned it up. "That was smart. Calling in Tran."

"Stop sucking up," cautioned Gail.

"Hey, I'm just saying, just saying. You're good. You could be a great detective."

Shaking her head, Gail locked the desk and walked over to the kitchen. "Not if it means working with the kinds of losers Homicide has."

"Ouch. Was that to me or the killers?"

"Both," sassed Gail.

Frankie laughed. "I think we need a drink after today. I do. I do. You?"

"God, this day will not end."

"I'll pick up a round."

That caught Gail's attention. "Alright."

Later, Frankie could wish she'd been loaded enough to just blab, but the truth was she just needed to unload. "Do you know Steve wanted to set us up? He did. He thought we would make a perfect match. We dodged a bullet."

Gail eyed her and shook her head. "Yeah we did."

Well that felt a little harsh. "Yeah. Ya think?"

"Steve's not a good matchmaker," she noted. "It's a Peck thing."

"I've been on a bad run. I meet these women, I make them laugh, it's the best sex of their whole life, and then they just can't keep up. They get jealous, they feel inferior which they usually are. Then it's all broken hearts, division transfers..." Frankie stopped when she realized how silent Gail was.

Gail stared at her for a long moment. "You're paying," she announced. "Because the word vomit overshare is unattractive."

"Does that make this a date?" Frankie was half joking. The woman had grown on her though.

Shaking her head, Gail opened the door to the Penny, not holding it for Frankie. "Absolutely not. It would be like dating a mirror, which is more narcissistic than I can stomach."

"You have no faith," smirked Frankie. "I'm fun as hell."

Gail shook her head again. "Stop trying, Frankie. That's a fail, waiting to happen."

"What's her name?"

Pausing, Gail looked back. "What?"

"This girl who broke your heart. You've got it bad, Peck."

Snorting, Gail countered, "Maybe your pick up lines are just that bad."

Frankie guffawed. "Fine. What's your poison?"

"Jack and coke, on the rocks. I'll get a table and you're still paying."

They ended up drinking the night away, talking about various things. They touched on women, on Steve, on being police. But they were way too similar, too alike even to be close friends. But for a couple nights, for the time Frankie was stuck at Fifteen, she could work with hanging out with this Peck.

And maybe, maybe not dating, but maybe they could be something else. After all, Gail was pretty hot.

* * *

She hadn't seen Gail for a few months. Steve had been around, and even Frankie had heard about his stabbing adventure. She'd made a point to drop in on him and heard all about how his baby sister was the hero. So when the chance came to stop in at Fifteen, she took it.

"Detective Peck," she greeted.

Gail looked surprised. "Anderson. What brings you here?"

"Oh the usual. Handcuffs and stuff." Frankie gestured. "Congratulations are in order. Major Crimes, too."

"Well, you know. Homicide looked boring." Gail smirked and pulled her winter jacket on. "I hate small talk."

Frankie chuckled. "God, me too. But. Headed out?"

"Yeah. Not sure where yet. Plans fell through."

Opportunity was knocking. "How about I buy you a drink? Since you're a D now and all that."

Gail paused and studied Frankie's face. "Yeah, alright."

The Penny was quiet. Most of the group Frankie had come to think of as Gail's gang weren't around. It was probably still a little early though. "Still a Jack and coke girl?"

"Just a beer. Trying to cut back."

Paying for the first round, Frankie sat at the bar. "Yeah? Afraid of screwing up?"

Gail smirked. "Not at all. I just have to do better than you. Low bar."

"Ouch. That hurt." Frankie lifted her drink and Gail politely touched her beer bottle to it. "How're you liking it?"

Shrugging, Gail leaned back against the bar counter. "It's interesting. Different."

There was the not-a-people-person Gail that Frankie had met before, but instead of a massive ice wall of indifference, she seemed much more relaxed about it. Calm. As if the storm that carried her before was gone. No… not gone. Focused. And there was no need for it to be wielded as a weapon right now.

"Wow. Mellow Peck. Where's your bite?"

Gail tilted her head. "You _trying_ to piss me off, Anderson?"

"There it is," smiled Frankie. "So you save it up and play cool?"

"Works so far."

"You must be just charming the hell out of your partner," Frankie laughed.

Gail laughed back. "I'll let you know when I get one."

That was the bane of being the rookie detective. You got bounced around sometimes until they sorted things out. "Any idea who you're getting?"

"Someone from out-Division. Unless they just leave me with Griggs."

"Is that the ancient guy?"

Gail nodded. "That's the one. Six million ex-wives." She sipped the beer.

"I feel his pain," joked Frankie.

"Oh? I thought you were a serial dater."

Frankie smiled. "No one keeps up with me." When Gail snorted, she added, "I bet you could keep up with me."

Blinking, Gail put her beer bottle down. "Are you shitting me?" She leaned away from Frankie in surprise. "Are you asking me out?"

It wasn't going as well as Frankie had hoped, but Gail was still talking to her. And she was smart, catching on. "No, me asking if you want to have dinner after this is asking you out."

Gail stared at her for a moment. "Yeah. Not gonna happen."

Throwing her hands up, Frankie asked, "Why not? And don't do the whole 'type' bullshit, because there's no such thing."

"There is a whole I'm-not-a-cheater thing," Gail pointed out.

"The... Not a cheater?" Had Frankie just shoved both feet into her mouth?

Nodding, Gail smiled. "I'm seeing someone."

Oh. "Steve did not ... Steve did not mention that."

"Sounds like Steve," Gail picked her beer back up. "He probably thought you'd hit on me while he was here so he could laugh."

Frankie sighed. "Your brother is a dick."

"Truth." Gail clinked her beer to Frankie's drink. "You really want to screw with his head, tell him I took you up on it. If you can keep a poker face, it's a hell of a lot of fun."

"You, you are devious, Peck."

"Thank you," smiled Gail, toothily.

"I gotta ask… you guys serious?"

There was something about Gail's nod that surprised her. It was the look of someone who was deadly serious about making things work. "Yes," she said more quietly than Frankie expected. "Moved in with her."

And that was really unexpected. "Already? I envy you. I've never made it that far."

"Why? Best sex of their lives doesn't net you a second date?" Gail looked overly-innocent. The kind you never trusted. The kind that was mocking you.

"Okay, usually when a hot woman throws my words back at me like that, she's dumping me."

Gail laughed. It wasn't the 'laughing with you' laugh either. She was clearly laughing at Frankie, reveling a little in her pain. "Peck," she pointed out, and took a long draw from her beer.

Shaking her head, Frankie pointed out, "Steve doesn't do that."

"Steve wishes he was as smart as I am." There was something pained to the undertone of how Gail said it. "You still double dipping?"

It took Frankie a moment to realize Gail meant IA. "No. That was a one time thing. Not my style."

"Good. You were pretty crap at it."

Frankie rolled her eyes. "It's not easy. You should try it."

Snorting, Gail shook her head. "Not into spying on my coworkers. It ends in heartache. Besides, they'd have to like me to make that work."

Still with the self-deprecation, apparently. "They do, you know." Frankie sighed. "Ward and I saw it. They trust you to do the right thing."

Gail eyed her. "How drunk are you?"

Frankie shrugged. "Epstein said his biggest regret was not having your back." The blonde blinked a few times so Frankie went on. "He said, see, he said you were the only one who said anything. And yeah you were banking on your name to save your ass, but when it didn't happen, you never blamed anyone. You just took what came. And he said he should have had your back."

To be fair, Epstein hadn't told her the whole story so it made little sense to Frankie, but it seemed to have an impact on Gail. She frowned and sipped her beer again. "Yeah, you're making it hard for me to not like you. Stop that."

Frankie smiled. "How about a round of pool? And if your girl dumps you, remember where the best sex of your life can be found?" She gestured at herself with both thumbs.

Snorting, Gail got up. "You have such an inflated ego of yourself. I bet they faked it."

"Oh, girls don't fake with girls, Peck. Trust me."

"They would if it made you shut up, Anderson."

* * *

The forensic team pulled up and the sexiest librarian known to man got out of a car. "Hello," Frankie muttered. How had she never had the luck to draw this woman before? "I don't think we've met, Dr...?"

"Stewart," smiled the woman in Wellies. "I don't get much of a call for ThirtyFour. This is Jenkins' purview."

Frankie beamed. "You are a welcome change."

Dr. Stewart laughed. It was a great laugh. Warm. "You may want to reserve judgement until after the case is over. What do you have for me?"

It was a fairly straightforward case. Guy hit in head, dead, robbed, and the body left under a bench. "Not a whole lot. We didn't go for his ID or anything," shrugged Frankie. She made a point to push her jacket off her hips.

The doctor glanced up and arched her eyebrows. Excellent. "Well at least no one touched the body." She pulled on gloves and rooted through the pockets. "Damn it..."

"No ID?"

"No ID," confirmed Dr. Stewart, sitting back on her haunches and looking frustrated. "Same MO." She carefully touched the head.

Frankie blinked. "MO?" If she'd stumbled onto a serial case, it could be a feather in her cap. "Do I need to call Major Crimes?"

Shaking her head, Dr. Stewart stood up. "No. It's an unsolved case." She pulled of her gloves, angrily. "Robbed, head bashed in, no ID. That's the fifth one. Rodney?" The doctor turned to her assistant. "Treat it like the others."

They all bundled back to the morgue, where Dr. Stewart (please call her Holly) presided over the autopsy. It was a slow afternoon so she had no issues squeezing it in the same day. While they waited for results, Frankie read the notes on the other cases.

"That's really weird, really weird," she muttered, flipping pages.

Holly sat in her chair, semi-slouched and grumpy. "I hate this case. Sorry."

"I don't blame you. They're all dead? No one lived?"

"If they have, they never filed a report." Holly rubbed her forehead. "This is why people drink."

"So," drawled Frankie. "Since we seem to be an an unsolvable impasse, can I buy you a drink?"

Holly looked up at her, surprised and confused. "I'm sorry... What?"

"Drinks? Maybe dinner?"

The surprise faded but the confusion remained. "I'm... Drinks and dinner?"

Frankie nodded. "You're smart, funny, good looking. I'm smart, awesome, great in bed. Could be a lot of fun."

There was the briefest pause before Holly laughed. "Wow. That's..."

"Self-confident?" Frankie tossed her hair back.

The doctor smirked. "Egotistical was where I was going."

Mock-sighing, Frankie pouted. "I was aiming for cocky and interesting."

"I'll concede to unique." The lips curved into a quirky smile. A side smile. It was incredible adorable.

"Is that a yes to unique?"

"You're incorrigible," laughed Holly. "Thank you, though," she smiled.

Frankie blinked. "You're welcome? Usually I hear that after sex."

And she laughed again. "You made my day much better. But no."

"No tonight?"

"No tomorrow as well, I'm not interested."

Crap. She was just gay-friendly. Frankie thought there'd been some subtle flirting all day, but apparently she'd just read into nothing. "Damn. I'm usually so good at picking out the lesbians..."

"Oh, no," laughed Holly. "You're still good at that. I have a girlfriend."

A horse of a completely different color, realized Frankie, with no small embarrassment. "This. This could be more awkward," she sighed.

"If you don't mind an as-friends, though, I'd love a drink." The smile of Holly's face was nice.

"That depends on how, exactly, you're going to present this to your girlfriend."

Bubbling with laughter, Holly pulled her jacket on. "You know, I don't know how she'll take it. Maybe we should leave out the flirting?"

That agreement was easily made and they went to the Penny, Holly promising that her girlfriend would meet them there. When the girlfriend showed up, Frankie choked on her beer. Gail Peck had sauntered in, looking around the room until she spotted Holly at the bar getting the next round. Easing into Holly's personal space, Gail smiled and took a beer, kissing Holly's cheek.

Oh shit.

It was one thing to have asked out Gail, twice, and been turned down. It was another to ask out her girlfriend. Frankie could only begin to guess at the potential for pain brought on by a Peck. Once, just once, she'd seen someone make a serious move on Steve's then girlfriend (Monica? Maura? whatever), and Steve had made the uni's life miserable for weeks.

Gail looked over at her, surprised, and lifted her beer before walking over while Holly paid. "Anderson, didn't expect to see you around here."

"Peck. Just had a case with the doctor."

Gail's eyebrows popped up. "Holly?"

"Yeah, look. I had no idea that you two were ... You know, you know I don't do that."

The blonde took a moment to catch on. "Oh." She smirked. "Please, if I got jealous every time someone hit on her, I'd be in jail."

That did not sound like the hate-everyone Peck that Frankie had met before. That didn't sound like any Peck. "Oh. That, that is remarkably not you."

Shrugging, Gail sat down at the table. "You ever date someone who was super 'protective'?"

"Not since I started dating women," admitted Frankie.

Gail gestured with the bottle. "Right. I hated it too. So I'm not gonna do it. Not my job to do that, and Holly's perfectly capable of taking care of herself."

"Is that why you didn't help me fix the garage door?" Holly handed Frankie's drink over and sat beside Gail.

"No, that's because we hire professionals for a reason." When Holly draped her arm over the back of Gail's chair, Gail leaned back. "So I worked a case with Frankie once," she informed Holly.

The doctor looked surprised. "When was that?"

"When you were moving," mused Gail and Holly looked enlightened.

"Moving?" Frankie had no idea what they were talking about.

Holly rolled her eyes. "We'd broken up because someone is an idiot." With a self-deprecating smile, Gail shrugged. "And I had a job offer in the States."

"And ... You stayed?"

A weird undercurrent of tension rippled through. "Well. It didn't work out," offered Gail, carefully.

Holly frowned a little. "Was this the case where your brother was a suspect?"

Both Frankie and Gail grimaced and said, "Yes."

"And you hit on Gail _and_ me?" That was asked with a strange look towards Gail. A half smirk that had the blonde grinning.

"Uh. I'm starting to think this is a setup of the unhappy ending variety," muttered Frankie.

"She's the one who said 'best sex of their lives,' actually." Gail smiled, very amused.

Frankie grimaced. "You are never going to stop with that, are you?"

The blonde kept grinning. "Are you kidding? That was the best part of the story." But her girlfriend did not look so pleased. Frankie had seen the look before. That was a woman who did not like her at all.

Time for some damage control. "Well it was worth a shot, but you said I wasn't your type."

"I said it would be like dating a cheap version of myself."

"You didn't say _cheap_ ," snapped Frankie.

"It was implied."

Before Gail went further down the road, Holly cleared her throat. "Gail. You didn't mention she asked you out twice."

Even Frankie, who had not had a grand number of successful relationships, got that one. "The first time didn't matter," Gail said reasonably. Then she paused and looked gobsmacked. "You're jealous? Of _Frankie_?"

Holly flustered a little, taking her arm off the back of Gail's chair. "Well.. She ... Twice, Gail!"

"Oh my god, that's like being jealous of Nicholas," grimaced Gail.

"You didn't tell me," Holly repeated, quickly working herself up into dither. "And we tell each other stuff, so you didn't and I have to think. Why wouldn't you tell me? So is there something I should know? Did you maybe go out with people while we were broken up or-"

The babbling was cut off by Gail taking hold of Holly's face and kissing her. Frankie blinked. "Well that's effective," she muttered to herself.

Gail was incredibly quiet when she finally spoke. "You've gotta stop babbling like that, Holly."

"Gail," muttered Holly, calmer but not calmed down.

"Women and men hit on me all the time, Holly," Gail said quietly. "I don't want them. I want you." She kissed Holly again, very briefly. "Do you want me to tell you when people hit on me?"

Frowning, Holly mumbled, "No."

The blonde nodded. "Okay." And just like that, they rearranged themselves. Now Holly was leaning against Gail with the cop's arm around her shoulders.

"You know, it's too bad you're not both devious," remarked Frankie. "If I were you, I'd make bets on which one of you gets hit on first by the rookies."

The duo turned to look at each other. "That could be fun," mused Holly.

"Real fun," agreed Gail, grinning evilly. "Put the fear of Peck in 'em for good measure. I bet Ollie'd go along with it."

Oh good, they were both devious. That would be fun to hear about. "And as a thank you, maybe you can fix a girl up? I know Peck's a fail at having gal pals, but what about you, Holly?"

The doctor smiled very slowly. "How do you feel about plastic surgeons who like boobs?" Gail nearly snorted her beer out her nose.

"That sounds promising..." Frankie leaned forward. "Tell me about your doctor friend."

* * *

 _And so, Frankie Anderson does exist in this universe. She dates Lisa for a short while. Lisa does not call it the best sex ever, though, and thinks Frankie is highly over rated._


	25. Hard to Hear

**Chapter 25: Hard to Hear**

 **Type: Drama**

 **Rating: T**

 _warpedscientist said: "Any chance Vivian will get some deaf friends/enemies? I can see her not telling anyone at school she can sign so she can spy on the deaf kids (she is Gail's kid after all), until one day they sign something super rude/mean/stupid about someone she cares about and then she storms over and tears them a new one."_

 _Then just-alive said: "That was amazing but now I really want to see a chapter where she runs into her first girl crush Mona again after all those years and she introduces her family to her."_

 _So you can blame this chapter on them._

 _This takes place when Vivian is in her early twenties and in college. All sign language will be in quotes in italics, and I'll try to make it clear._

* * *

Eating lunch alone was normal. Vivian screwed her earbuds into place and popped open the red lunchbox Gail had packed the night before. Twenty and still living at home with her mom making her lunch. Once someone had teased her and Vivian had just smiled. They could invent all kind of ideas of what kind of stay-at-home mom she had, but the reality that she was the daughter of the head of Organized Crime for two divisions in Toronto policing and her mom _still_ made time to make sure she had a good lunch would probably blow their minds.

Also Gail's food was really good.

The lunchbox being red was Holly's doing. It still had 'Office of the Medical Examiner' stitched on the side, along with the gay pride badge Vivian had sewn on when she was fourteen. That was the year she'd been on the float with Gail and Holly (a rare occurrence, Holly turned out to be terrified of being on the float) and worn a shirt saying she loved her moms.

Still. She tended to eat lunch alone on UoT campus, which really was fine. People were noisy and dug into your life and asked weird, and stupid, questions. And since sitting in the cafeteria with her homemade lunch was a constant invitation to people asking more stupid questions, Vivian had taken to sitting at the tables by one of the on campus restaurants who didn't mind that she only bought something to drink.

They had really good bubble tea, too. Vivian sipped the tea and smiled. It went well with the leftover pad thai she and Gail had made the night before.

"Hello, strange girl," announced a friendly voice. "Please tell me you did the homework."

"Hi, Jane," replied Vivian, pulling an earbud out.

"Homework?" Jane leaned over and eyed Vivian's lunch. "Share?"

"Yes and no," she pulled her food closer. "Go buy your own lunch. Your meal plan covers this."

Jane stuck her tongue out. "Help me with the homework and I'll buy you desert."

Vivian would have helped anyway, but she smiled. "Deal. I want the crispy wonton or a bubble tea."

"¿Por que no los dos?"

"If that's the extend of your Spanish, no wonder you're failing."

Jane flipped her off and laughed.

As Jane went to go make the order, Vivian bent her head back to the homework she was working on. It was her own idea to take a mechanical engineering class. She liked it, loved the work, but it was a lot more math than she really wanted to spend her weeks doing. At least this evening was shooting day with Gail, and that was always fun.

It reminded her to text her mother, though. As Vivian pulled out her phone to ping Gail and confirm they were still on, she glanced at a table over to the side where a group of people were animatedly, and silently, gesturing. Without looking, Vivian texted Gail and put the phone down, absently recognizing, and reading, the conversation in sign language.

The group was talking about a party that was going on in a dorm that weekend, and how it sucked and would be annoying because of the vibrations all night. Plus they weren't even invited. It would be too dark to see anything. Personally Vivian felt that the parties were too loud to hear anything, but that made sense too. Everyone always wanted to turn the lights down.

But then it took a strange turn as one of them pointed over at Jane and signed that it was disgusting. The what now? Vivian flicked her eyes to the side, trying to keep up the look Chloe had been teaching her for casual surveillance. Jane was kissing someone.

Well. That was Jane alright.

She flicked her gaze back to the girls, who were signing faster than she could really read, but she caught a few words she didn't like seeing. Like 'slut.' Like 'bitch.' Like 'whore.'

Damn it.

"Whoa, what got you angry?" Jane sat down with the bubble tea and a regular iced tea.

"Who were you kissing?"

Jane arched her eyebrows. "Viv, you're cute, but I don't swing with the ladies."

Vivian blinked. "What? God, no. Not that you idiot." She shoved Jane's shoulder and looked at the back of the man Jane had been kissing. "Is that Jela?"

"Yeah. He just started here," she said, and grinned. "So _your_ bubble tea is on him. He likes you."

Not that it mattered to her if Jane was making out with her boyfriend or some random dude. But sometimes having the right weapons to fight the queen bees was needed. "I'll be right back. Try the first page on your own, okay? This is _supposed_ to be tutoring, not copying."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Jane grumbled and opened her math book.

Vivian walked over to the table with the deaf girls. Normally she'd clear her throat to get their attention. Instead she picked out the leader (the one in the middle sitting more primly), and tapped her shoulder. The girl turned and looked, started, and so did the other girls.

And Vivian signed a hello.

And they all paled a little. Eyes went to her ears, then her mouth, then her hands. The deaf knew the deaf. She was not a member of their classes nor their clique. So she was either an unknown who chose to be separate (rare, but it happened), or she was a hearing person who knew a little sign language.

Vivian could see all of that running through their heads. She made sure she had all their attentions and signed as she spoke, " _It's not your business who she kisses_."

They paled more. Now they knew. " _You sign_?" That was the sidekick. The one to her right. Maybe the second in command.

" _A lot of people do. Not just you._ " Vivian gestured at her table. " _Don't judge people_." She had to keep her sentences short and to the point. Anything super complicated was still beyond her.

The queen bee stood up. "Go away," she said loudly. "Stop harassing us!"

Oh. Well played. Vivian smiled slowly. It wasn't a nice smile. It was the one Gail wore when she was about to nail a perp. Vivian spoke as she signed. "I'm not the one who insults people behind their backs. I don't pretend I know a secret language and hide behind it."

"Liar! You're bullying!"

One of the girls at the table looked guilty and pushed her chair away from the table. The back of Vivian's brain noted that.

"I'm not," said Vivian, calmly. "I'm telling you that you are rude. I'm asking you not to call my friend names." The reverse bully tactic wasn't new to her. She'd seen it before. She'd had it used on her before, her senior year of school.

By not rising to the bait, Vivian knew she was infuriating the other girl. It wasn't nice and she didn't like doing it, but it was the weapon Vivian had now. "You're lying! You don't even know. You hearing people are all alike!" The more she shouted, the more pronounced her speech pattern became. Maybe she was doing it on purpose, making it sound like she was deaf (which was always odd to Vivian, that deaf had an accent, but it did).

"You don't know me," said Vivian, still calm. "You don't know my friend. And I don't know you." She took a deep breath. "But I know right and wrong. Making fun of people just because they can't understand you is wrong. It would be wrong if I did it. It's wrong when you do it."

And the girl slapped her. It surprised the hell out of Vivian. It didn't hurt at all (seriously, she had the muscle strength of a noodle) but the sting shocked her.

The queen bee raised her arm again but the guilty looked girl stood up and grabbed her wrist. "Stop," she said, simply. The other girls hesitated. They were clearly torn. But then the girl did something odd. She pointed over at a table in the corner.

An adult. A professor was standing up slowly. The deaf girls folded and sat down. Vivian rubbed her cheek. "I won't press charges," she said, making sure the guilty girl saw her sign it. The guilty one nodded.

Vivian nodded and walked back to her table. Jane's eyes were wide. "What the hell did you do, Viv?"

"The right thing. Come on, we should go. Get your food."

"But the cops—"

"Jane. My mom's a cop. Trust me. Okay? Two girls arguing and then a slap? They don't care unless someone wants to press charges."

Jane looked nervous, but as Jela came over with her food in a to-go box, she packed up. Her boyfriend gave her a kiss. "You better not come by for a couple days," he said to Vivian.

"Yeah, I know." Vivian shoved her books in a bag and blinked as Jela handed over a small to-go box as well. "What? What's this for?"

"Were they really calling her names?"

"Yeah. They were."

Jela nodded. "That's what it's for."

Once they were outside, Jane punched her shoulder. "What the hell? I don't need you to rescue me, you idiot."

Vivian frowned. "I didn't do it for you." She sipped her tea and eyed the box. Hopefully it was their rolls. She liked them.

"Oh." Jane frowned as well. "Do you have, like, a savior complex or something?"

"No." At least she didn't think so. "Look, how many people do you think they do that shit to?"

Jane didn't say anything for a while. Not until they got to the benches across the lawn. "You don't like bullies, do you?"

"No." She thought about Matty. She thought about herself. She thought about everyone who was shoved into a locker or treated like shit. "The stupid thing, Jane. They think they can get away with it because they're bullied and no one sees them."

"But you did."

"But I did. Yeah."

Jane shook her head and opened her lunch. "Your moms are going to flip."

They did. Probably not like Jane had anticipated. Both told her she did the right thing. Holly hugged her and Gail said she was a trouble maker, but then made fried chicken and greek roasted potatoes, so Vivian knew her mother was proud in her own way.

That didn't get her out of a lecture not to be a savior, of course. "It's not your job to save everyone," said Gail, sitting in the sun room with her after dinner.

"That isn't why I did it, Mom." Vivian frowned, though.

"Look. As your mom, I'm hella proud of you for calling people out on shit like this. People suck, and they think they can get away with it any time they have a little power." Gail laced her fingers together. "But you want to be a cop. You can't just go and do that anymore."

"But… Mom. It _is_ your job to protect people."

"It is." Gail nodded. "But not like that."

Vivian frowned. "I don't understand."

"Okay." Gail looked at her hands for a moment. "Keeping the peace, making the city safer, doesn't mean you jump in front of bullets or hunt down bullies. It means you show up on the worst day of someone's life and try to make it a little better. It means you take kids away from parents, or tell them someone's dead."

"I know that," she said, annoyed. "But I did the right thing!"

"You did **a** right thing," Gail replied. She stressed that 'a' carefully. "It's a good thing. And it's also abuse of power, Viv."

That hurt more than the slap. "What? How?"

"You played her. You knew how to piss her off, how to push her, and you knew the worst that would happen is she might attack you. And then you'd win." Gail's voice was quiet and it was cutting. "You knew you'd win. You started from a place of power and you used it, Vivian."

Vivian felt cold. Her mother was right. She hadn't even thought about it, but Gail was right. "I'm just as bad as they are?"

"No," said Gail, reaching over and touching her shoulder. "No, Viv, because you did it to try and help people."

Covering her face, Vivian groaned. "Why is this so complicated? I just… I just wanted to stop them from hurting people."

"I know." Gail's arm wrapped around her shoulder and pulled her into a hug. "Your heart's in the right place, kid. You just have to remember the whole thing at once. And it's hella hard, I know. It's a lot to keep in your head. Why are you doing it, how does it look to everyone else, are you pushing because you can get away with it… " Gail sighed long and loud. "It's really hard."

Vivian leaned into Gail. "I should apologize."

"That'd be good," Gail said, agreeing. "Give it a week. Then go back and, if you run into them, tell them the truth."

What was the truth. "That I was mad they were insulting my friend and I wasn't any better than they were and I shouldn't have done that in public?"

"That's a good start. They'll probably tell you to fuck off."

"I would," Vivian admitted. "So if they do… Just let it go?"

"Yes," agreed Gail. She got another shoulder squeeze. "Look. You just have to keep living and learning, sweetheart. You have to hear your head and your heart with this sort of thing."

It was something to dwell on, though. Vivian replayed the afternoon in her head a few times. Her mother was right. She had used a place of power, small though it was, to push them and try to make them feel guilty. But how else were you supposed to make people see they were wrong? You had to do it from a place where you felt safe, which inevitably meant a place of power.

And that meant that Gail, who could make a perp roll over and confess, was bullying them. Gail always said she wasn't actually a very nice person. That was where her non-niceness came out. She used it to punish and attack and cajole and trick the criminals. Sometimes though, sometimes Gail used it to make the innocent confess far lesser crimes in order to catch the big ones.

Did that make Gail evil? Vivian didn't think so. She felt it made Gail… well. Gail. Someone who understood the line she walked and let the bad things that were a part of her be used for the right reasons.

 **A** right reason.

Why had Gail said that? **A** right thing, not **the** right thing. That implied there were only levels of grey and maybes and possibilities. That maybe there were more right answers. But also… also maybe there wasn't a right and a wrong sometimes. Maybe there was a right and another right and another right, and they all came at a price. Which meant the idea of 'winning' was the wrong one.

There was no way to win. There was no win. There was just another choice.

She had to listen to the truth, emotionally and intellectually. She couldn't let one override the over. It was hard to listen to both at once, but she wanted this. Vivian wanted to be a cop. She was going to have to learn.

She ended up waiting a couple weeks before showing back up at the restaurant. Jela was delighted to see her, as was his boss, who said he wished next time she'd keep it quieter, but thank you for standing up.

It made Vivian feel uncomfortable. She did take the free bubble tea, though, because it was bubble tea and Gail hated it so she never got it at home. And it was another week before she ran into anyone from the linguistics program or the sign language coalition.

"Excuse me," said a woman Vivian didn't know. Her voice had the slightly off quality of someone hard of hearing from birth.

Vivian looked up. "Hi? Can I help you?" She put her pen down, taking care to speak clearly.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, but you're the girl who talked to my students last month? About their behavior?" The woman tucked her hair behind her ear and Vivian saw the hearing aid.

Crap. This was the teacher from the other day. She was probably their professor or TA or mentor. "I did," replied Vivian, signing a yes. "I'm sorry about that. It was rude of me to attack them like that."

The woman looked from Vivian's hand to her face and beamed. She signed as she spoke. "Thank you for reminding them that they can be overheard."

Oh. So she wasn't in trouble. Vivian frowned. "But I was mean to them."

"You were," agreed the professor. "But something tells me you already know why what you did was wrong. Besides, you're not my student."

Vivian exhaled. "I do. And I am sorry."

"You can apologize Friday, if you'd like. My students are having a mixer." Then she paused. "I'm sorry, speaking of rude. I'm Dr. Mona Kilner."

"Vivian Peck," she replied, spell-signing her name since, unlike Gail, she'd not been given a cool name-sign. Not that Gail had ever said where she got that from.

Weirdly, the professor looked startled. "Peck?" She spoke aloud and then signed the name back.

"Yes," replied Vivian, confused.

"Do you know Steve or Gail?" Prof. Kilner was so excited, she signed almost faster than Vivian could read.

And it was now officially weird. "Yes." She paused and then explained, "Gail's my mom."

Prof. Kilner stared at her. "Gail? _Gail_ is your mother?"

Vivian nodded. "Um. Yes?"

The woman shook her head and started laughing. "And Steve is your uncle?"

"That's usually how it works." Vivian sighed. "You know them?"

"I went to middle school with Steve. I haven't seen them since we were … younger than you." She looked thoughtful and a little sad. "How's your mother? Did they end up cops?"

It was long past the time that Vivian wondered about the coincidences of the universe. "Yeah, they're detectives."

Prof. Kilner smiled, as if that was pleasing to her. "And married?"

"Yeah," Vivian said and nodded. "Both."

"I cannot imagine Gail married," admitted the professor. "But she was nine or ten the last time I saw her."

Vivian paused and then pulled her phone out, tapping up a photo of Steve and Traci at a police benefit from earlier that year. "Traci, she's a cop too, she's married to Steve. They don't have any kids... Well, Traci has Leo, but he wasn't adopted or anything." Dr. Kilner nodded. "And..." Swiping, she pulled up a photo of Gail and Holly from the same event. Holly was in a stunning cocktail dress. "There's Gail and Holly," she added.

As a surprised expression crossed the professor's face, Vivian remembered that Gail hadn't always been gay. Or at least hadn't known. Maybe that was a bad thing to have said. Vivian was never sure. "Holly."

"Yeah," Vivian said slowly. "Dr. Holly Stewart. She's the head of forensics. Chief medical examiner for Ontario." And she waited for a comment. There was almost always a comment.

But the professor just smiled at the photo. "She looks happy. Gail does."

"I think we are," said Vivian, thoughtfully. "It's hard to tell sometimes."

"Isn't it though?" The teacher laughed. "Come to the mixer. I'll make sure you get a chance to talk to my students. You can meet some deaf students who aren't idiots. Brush up on your speed reading."

Vivian sighed. "Mom is way better. It's disgusting."

"Gail has a gift for languages. Will you tell her I say hello?"

Of course Vivian promised to do so. And as soon as she did that night, Gail looked as shocked as the professor had. "Dr. _Mona_ Kilner? Brown hair? Tan? Tall?"

"Uh, not as tall as me," Vivian said. "She's probably a bit shorter than you." Though the words of Gail's description clicked in her brain. Her mother totally had a thing for stacked brunettes with dusky skin. And glasses. She probably shouldn't tell Gail that the professor - that Mona had glasses.

Gail was struck by an amused look. "My god. I haven't seen her since I was ... Nine or ten. How crazy. She's their teacher?"

"Yeah. And she wants me to come to a mixer on Friday. Meet some deaf kids."

Still smiling that amused-by-a-memory smile, Gail nodded. "You should go. You learn better by doing. I can brush up on my sign language by reading."

Vivian stuck her tongue out at her mother. But she went to the mixer. And she meet with the girls who still hated her. And she apologized and they apologized and then it was like every other awkward party Vivian had ever been to. She didn't fit in or get along with most people, so she spent a lot of time standing out of the way and watching. Except it was louder. Way louder.

The music, pounding and throbbing and so loud she could feel her bones vibrating, was worse than the normal annoyance of not knowing what the hell to do at a party. Also worse was the fact that everyone was signing way the hell faster than she could read. Maybe she should head home.

A girl about her age tapped her shoulder. "Here," she said loudly, holding out a small baggie with bright yellow plugs in them. Vivian eyed the bag and signed that her mom was a cop. The girl just laughed. "Ear plugs. Trust me!"

Vivian blinked and took the bag, squeezing them and then sliding them in. The sound lessened and her head started to stop pounding. _"Thank you,"_ she signed.

The girl smiled broadly. " _Welcome_ ," she signed back. " _You're new here. Partial hearing_?"

" _Fully hearing_ ," replied Vivian a little slowly. " _My mother learned sign language from your professor_."

" _Your mother the cop is deaf_?"

The girl was quick and Vivian grinned. " _My mother the cop is gifted at languages._ "

The girl laughed. " _You're not bad yourself_." But then she started signing faster than Vivian could follow, and she didn't know all the words. It was something about the professor (at least Vivian thought that was the word) inviting her, and was Vivian the girl who had stopped the idiots from being … something. " _Sorry. Was that too fast_?"

" _My vocabulary is limited_ ," Vivian admitted, feeling very sheepish.

" _Can you spell_?" Vivian nodded and the girl spelled out a word. No. A name. _"S. K. Y. E._ "

Skye. Vivian repeated it and then spelled her own name and asked, _"Do you have a name sign_?"

Skye nodded and started the sign for 'sky' but turned it into an E at the end. " _Really inventive, I know._ "

" _Shorter than trying to spell mine_."

" _Right now, their name sign for you is 'bitch.'_ "

Vivian rolled her eyes. " _They called my friend a slut_." And like she always did, Vivian had to step in. She'd learned one important thing from her mothers. People needed help and she couldn't say no to that. Because not everyone was strong enough to stand up for others. But she was. Her mothers were. Now, though, she had to think about what her actions meant, what drove them, and what she was doing.

" _They're idiots. Thank you for calling them out on it._ "

Vivian spent the next hour with Skye, sitting where they could feel the beat of the music but it wasn't loud enough that Vivian could hear it clearly through the ear plugs. Skye was considerate about that. She pointed out people, telling Vivian their stories. Like how that boy was from Texas and complained about winters. And that girl was engaged to a hearing math student, but he didn't want to learn sign language so everyone thought he was a dick and kept telling her to dump him. Or that girl was hearing but her mother was fully deaf so she was studying to be a teacher.

Slowly the conversation changed a little. Skye was majoring in animal medicine and wanted to be a vet. When Vivian explained she was majoring in mechanical engineering, but minoring in criminal justice, because she was going to be a cop, Skye found that delightful and cool.

And she kept touching Vivian's knee or arm. Skye kept taking her hands to help her form new words (like mechanical engineering), or correct her motions for the ones she knew.

It took a moment, longer than she might have liked, but she realized what was happening. Skye was flirting with her. Vivian blinked at the realization and smiled. She was single. And Skye was fun. She'd had a girlfriend, Pia, an art student from Germany who'd gone back home at the end of the last term. They'd agreed to make it a clean break since the odds were low that they'd ever see each other again.

When Skye leaned in a little closer, Vivian closed the distance so their shoulders were touching. She'd just have to turn her head and Skye's lips were right there. But the possibility that she was reading it wrong held Vivian back.

Then there was a moment. Someone yelled loudly and Vivian turned to see a man with beer over his face being hauled out by a bouncer. She read the scene in a second, knowing everyone was alright, knowing she wasn't needed. But she turned all the same to make sure he was taken out and the girl had someone with her.

" _Sorry_ ," she signed, turning back to Skye with a sheepish smile on her face. And that was all she said. Because Skye's fingers were on her chin, guiding her face into a kiss. Skye's lips were soft and warm. The fingers on her face were gentle, certainly not holding her in place. It was brief, not really short but certainly not all there was to it, and Vivian hardly had a chance to do more than lean in a little.

She was still smiling, not sheepish any longer, when Skye leaned back. Now it was the other girl who was a little embarrassed about what she'd done. But not enough to not lean in again and, this time, Vivian was able to kiss her back.

Between the music and the earplugs, Vivian could only hear the sound of blood rushing in her own head. The world wasn't silent, but it was quieter. It was like a slice of privacy in the middle of a party. She'd not felt that before. It was novel.

Skye was still smiling. She let go of Vivian's face and signed. " _Do you want to go to some place quieter_?" Singing a simple yes, Vivian let herself be led up the stairs and down the hall. Of course. Some of the girls lived her. It was a small dorm building, but it was a dorm.

The sign on the door said "Skye and Becca," doodled with little flowers and hearts. Vivian laughed unexpectedly. When Skye turned to look at her, she signed and said, " _Cute_."

"Becca did it," replied Skye, and she rolled her eyes. "Becca is also home for the weekend." She unlocked her door and walked in. It was a standard dorm room, small. Two beds, two desks, two dressers, two closets. Posters on one wall, photos stuck up all over another.

The door closed and the sound level dropped. "Wow," Vivian said, surprised. She eased one earplug out and, finding it was tolerable, removed the other. Nearly soundproofed rooms. She could still feel the vibrations in her feet, but they didn't rattle her brain as much here.

Skye kicked her shoes off. " _Does it look like your room_?"

Turning around, Vivian shook her head. " _I live with my parents_ ," she replied. It seemed natural and right to sign in that moment, even though Skye spoke aloud. She hadn't quite figured out the level of Skye's deafness. The girl wore only one hearing aid, in her left ear.

" _Townie_." Skye was teasing her. She sat on a bed, probably hers, and patted beside her. After a moment, Vivian stepped out of her sneakers and walked over, sitting down beside Skye.

They didn't have to talk at that point. Skye took her hearing aid out and put it on her nightstand (aka her mini fridge) and they settled into some fairly serious making out. The vibrations from the music downstairs were definitely doing a job on her, though. Every part of her that wasn't turned on from the girl lying on the bed next to her was getting there from the music. It was like riding a motorcycle.

When Skye's hand started moving up her shirt, Vivian realized that it was going to be that, right away. And she wasn't really sure she wanted to have sex in the middle of a party. "Wait," she mumbled and gently pulled Skye's hand back.

Skye acted like she was burned. "Oh, shit," she said, possibly louder than she meant. And Skye sat up, leaning against her wall and breathing hard.

That was not expected. Vivian pushed her hair out of her face and sat up. " _Sorry. It was just a little fast_ ," she said, signing as she spoke.

"God, you're straight," said Skye, groaning and covering her face.

"What!?" Vivian started laughing. She didn't know if Skye could hear her but she could only laugh and laugh.

Eventually Skye poked her leg. "Hey." Then she asked, " _What's so funny_?"

" _I don't know the sign for_..." Vivian paused and finger-spelled lesbian. Skye replied with an L held up to her chin. Of course. " _I'm a lesbian_ ," signed Vivian.

Skye exhaled, looking relieved. " _Are you seeing someone_?"

" _No. It was really just a little fast_."

Skye blushed. " _Sorry. You don't meet a lot of lesbians here._ "

Vivian smiled and scooted around to sit crosslegged beside Skye. " _Not ones who know sign language._ "

" _That too._ " Skye reached over and pushed Vivian's hair out of her face. " _And I barely know you_."

" _That too_ ," repeated Vivian. She'd never had sex with anyone she'd just met. With Liv, she'd known her since forever. Pia she met in art class (to help with her diagramming) and they'd gone out for coffee and snacks a dozen times before she'd dared ask about a real date. Admittedly, Pia had said that it was only a real date if it had ended in sex, which flustered Vivian badly. Not badly enough that she didn't cheekily say the challenge was accepted, and not badly enough that they hadn't dated for the rest of the term. But still.

This would be a first if that's what happened.

Skye ran her fingers down the side of Vivian's face before signing. " _Would that be so bad_?"

Would it? She honestly didn't know. Wasn't college a time to find out what you liked and what you didn't? Both Aunt BitchTits and Gail's friend, Frankie, had touted the wonderful world of sleeping around. Of course, Lisa and Kate had been living together for four years, dating for eight, and were just as committed as Gail and Holly. Frankie... Well. Frankie still got around. Holly called her a serial monogamist. She'd date one woman for a while, even up to a year, and then they'd break up and Frankie would show up and drink beers with Gail and Steve.

Vivian was twenty.

It was a good time to enjoy life. Sow wild oats. Right?

She smiled at Skye and leaned in to kiss her.

As it turned out, it wasn't a great idea. Oh the sex was good. It was different, a little loud though it wasn't like Vivian really needed to worry about pissing off the neighbors. Besides, the thudding vibration of the music was pretty good for covering the noise. And Skye was good in bed. And yes, she definitely felt good after sex. She had that heavy limbed, satiated feeling.

There just was a weird, niggling feeling in the back of her mind. It wasn't fulfilling. As she drove home late that night (or early that morning), she tried to put together the differences between the three girls she'd had sex with. Olivia had been awkward and funny in a way. Sad at the end. But that was unrelated to sex. Vivian didn't think they'd been compatible, really. Maybe that had been due to their shared relative inexperience. Maybe not.

Then there was Pia. She was incredibly direct. Pia knew what she wanted and gave good directions. More experienced than Vivian, Pia taught her a lot about making love to a woman. The directness was a little off putting at first. Being told 'no' in the middle of sex was just distracting and sometimes mood killing. As Vivian got used to it, though, it became a lot more fun. Pia wasn't saying no because Vivian was necessarily bad, she wanted Vivian to know exactly what she liked and was just very forthright about it. When asked why, Pia shrugged and joked that maybe it was because she was German.

And then Skye. She took her time at a lot of things. She was slow and measured, reading Vivian's expressions and reactions. That made sense. They had a little bit of fumbling, trying to communicate while having sex was hard when your hands were occupied. And Skye was totally deaf in one ear. The other, her left, she could hear without the hearing aid, but not enough to communicate well.

But none of that explained Vivian's feelings about it. She sighed as she pulled into the garage. Both her moms cars were parked. By habit, she hovered her hand above the hood of each car. Holly's was slightly warmer than Gail's cold one. They'd been home for a little while, maybe a couple hours. Vivian frowned and eyed her watch. It was three AM. Where the hell had they been?

She made noise on purpose as she came in, checking the fridge for leftovers to scrounge. The food at the party had been nonexistent, though apparently that was normal. Vivian found takeout from a fancy restaurant. Oh. It had been a date night. She rolled her eyes and heated up the leftovers, biding her time to give her mothers the opportunity to finish whatever they were doing.

When she finally went upstairs, she found their bedroom door open and her mothers asleep. Gail was curled up on her side of the bed, one arm reaching out to touch Holly, who was sprawled over the majority of the bed. Smiling, Vivian closed their door quietly.

The next morning she woke up to a soft rap at her door. "What?" She groaned and hunkered down in her bed.

"Checking if you're still alive." That was Gail. "I'm making Leftover Omelets."

Food. Vivian opened her eyes. "I ate your leftovers."

Gail was quiet a moment. "Eh," she finally said. "I'm making Denver Omelets, then." And footsteps walked away from the door.

Vivian lay in bed for a while. She'd showered when she'd gotten home, but she felt like she needed another one. Weird. Taking a quick shower, she got dressed and came downstairs to help Gail with breakfast. "Hi, Mom. Where's Mom?"

"Still asleep. I'll bring her breakfast."

Making a face, Vivian made herself a cup of coffee. "Just a date night or something special?"

"Her article will be on the cover of the September issue of Forensics Magazine." Gail said it nonchalantly, but she was practically vibrating with delight.

Even Vivian had to admit it was pretty damn cool. "Nice! Which article?"

"The one about extracting DNA from compromised bones found in the lagoon."

Vivian grinned. "That was fucking cool."

"Yeah it was." Gail grinned right back. "We went out to that fancy new Italian place downtown and, since you were out when we got back..." She trailed off and grinned more.

"You're welcome." Vivian snorted. "Also you left your door open."

Gail had the grace to wince. "Sorry. When did you get back?"

"Around three something."

"Yeah? So you had fun?"

"It was educational," said Vivian after a moment. "Professor Kilner - Mona - says hi."

Her mother smiled. "Educational? What's her name?"

Vivian sighed. "Skye, and I'm not like Aunt BT or Frankie."

It took Gail a moment to follow. "Well. You got her name, which puts you one up on Frankie. She banged some girl in the bathroom at the Penny." Gail made a face. "Please tell me you weren't in the bathroom."

"Ew." She laughed. "We went to her room."

"Good. Feel kinda dirty though, huh?"

That was it! "Thank you! Yeah!" Vivian sat at the kitchen island. "It felt skeevy. I mean, I know like _nothing_ about her, except she's deaf and her name is Skye." The weird weight fell away.

Gail nodded knowingly. "Yeah, I hated that too. Nothing wrong with not liking one night stands, Monkey. Did you get her number?"

"No. I left her mine, though."

Gail nodded again. "Well. Now you know."

"Know what?" Holly was yawning as she came downstairs in a robe.

"I hate one night stands. Congratulations, Mom."

Holly smiled and kissed Vivian's forehead. "They tend to suck. And thank you. What's breakfast?"

"Denver omelet. I was going to bring it to you in bed, baby." Gail frowned.

Holly wrapped her arms around Gail's waist. "I hate crumbs in bed." She rested her chin on Gail's shoulder and said something quietly.

Watching her mothers, a little more calm and mellow than normal, was nice. She smiled. Maybe one day she could find something like that, mused Vivian. Back when she'd been a teenager, she worried about it a little more. Was she a failure because her moms got it and she was just flubbing relationships by not knowing who she was? And then... Then she realized something that should have been obvious.

Her moms were _total_ fuckups at her age.

Holly had the girlfriend who cheated on her. Gail had Nick, who apparently left her at the altar in Las Vegas. And Vivian? Well she'd fallen for her best friend and screwed that up. She'd had a fling with an exchange student. And now a one night stand. Maybe she was ahead of the game.

Her watch buzzed, surprising her. Vivian tapped it and stared at the message. "Oh, it's Skye," said Gail, knowingly.

"Who's Skye?" Holly frowned and sipped her coffee.

"The hot deaf girl who shagged Viv last night."

"Seriously, Gail?" Holly wasn't actually mad, but she managed to sound like she might be.

"What? She's twenty, Holly. I was sleeping around at her age."

"I don't think talking about your daughter's sex life is appropriate."

"Hey, Lily's the one who asked if I was sexually satisfying you."

"You were a baby lesbian, Gail!"

Vivian ignored them both. They were just arguing for fun anyway.

 _It's Skye. We should do a meal thing._

Not the best pick up line in the world, but Vivian grinned. She tapped the 'okay' button. "She wants to go out," Vivian said to her moms.

"Suddenly feels a lot less icky, huh?" Gail was very amused.

"Yeah," Vivian said. "But I think I'm not going to do the whole sex first thing again. I don't like that."

Gail nodded, understandingly. "Solid plan."

"Lessons learned from tequila?" Holly was smirking over her coffee mug.

"God, Viv, never make sex decisions on tequila."

"That's your advice?" Holly broke out laughing. "Just sex decisions?"

Maybe most people didn't talk with their moms about their love lives, but it made Vivian feel better to have them in her corner.

* * *

 _There you go. Vivian has a deaf friend (a few actually), and Mona's doing just fine. A little surprised Gail's gay but then again, she hasn't seen her since Gail was nine._

 _As of today (Nov 17, 2015) this is the last chapter I have written for OHDH. If there are more, I'll post them. Prompts are welcome, but not a given._


	26. We Talk

**Chapter 26: We Talk**

 **Type: RomCom**

 **Rating: T**

 _*Blows dust off this one* Remember when I said that if people had prompts they might end up here? Well. One did._

 _From Gail-Shark:_

 _Golly prompt: Could you fill some of time between 4x10 and 4x12? A night in or out perhaps. Whatever the setting, I'd like to witness any rising sexual tension between them. Many thanks._

 _Okay! Some time is filled in. A night in. A night apart. And then Chloe wondering what the actual fuck is going on._

 _This takes place back in the early chapters of OWtO. You can figure out when._

* * *

"I cannot believe I'm telling you this."

"I can't believe you went to Cancun and you've never been off the continent!"

Holly huffed at Gail. "Shut up. Not all of us go backpacking through Europe after high school."

The blonde smirked. "You don't even speak another language."

Flipping her off, Holly got to her feet. "I'm getting another beer."

"Do you have anything other than the microbrew? I think I'm hipster'd out."

"Oh, so I'm getting you a bottle?"

"I'm already too drunk to drive home, nerd."

It took Holly a moment to realize that meant Gail was planning on staying the night. She tried not to blush at the thought. Which was really not working. "You don't have a car."

From the living room, the blonde made a noise. "Whatever."

Giving up to the inevitable of another awkward night of a cute blonde in her house, Holly sighed and took two beers out of her fridge. "How's your wrist?"

Gail held up her right wrist and inspected it. "You can barely tell."

That, in and of itself, was a miracle. The woman was so pale, the burn should have stayed visible for months. Here it was, barely a few weeks, and it was gone. "Good. That was …"

"Yeah, totally was a shitty, sucky, day." Gail grimaced. "That's when McNarc blabbed."

"Mc… McNarc?"

"McNally. Princess Girl Guide never-hurt-a-fly, good-guy Andy McNally. Slept with my ex."

Holly had heard bits and pieces of this before. "Nick?"

Making a mmmm noise, Gail took a healthy swing from her beer. "You know the best part? I was actually totally just going to ignore the fuck out of it. I mean, what the hell do I care?"

"You did cheat on him."

"He was in love with McNally! Ugh. But hey, no, Peck gets no second chances." Gail grimaced. "Why am I telling you all this?"

"Because I don't judge you?"

Gail pointed over at Holly. "Yes. That. You're like the only not shitty person I know. My 'friends' suck. I need new ones."

Holly tried to deconstruct the convoluted story a few times and failed. "Okay… Wait. You dated Nick before?" There had been allusions to that at the wedding. They didn't talk about the wedding, though. They certainly didn't talk about the kiss, unless one counted the drugged remark about how Holly's lips were soft a few weeks ago.

"Nick is the guy who left me at the altar. Tried to get me back. But nooo, I screw up once and that's it. Asshole."

"Wow." Holly stared at her friend. "Wait, wait. He left you at the altar? And then hooked up with McNally?"

"Yep! Said I was cold. No… Wait. That was Chris. Nick said I wasn't girlfriend material."

"Jesus, I thought I made bad relationship choices."

Gail hoisted her beer. "Gail Peck! Making your life choices seem better by comparison!" She took another swing. "Do you need to feel better about disappointing your parents? I'm aces at that one too."

Holly smiled. "No, I get along with my parents."

"See? You feel a lot better about stupid things now, don't you?"

Except for kind of tipsy kissing Gail, yes, she felt much better. Holly sighed. "Except that I'm perpetually single? Sure. Career success, romantic flop."

Gail, draped on the couch, looked up thoughtfully. "I offered to help you with blind dates."

"Yeah, because those work out sooooo well for you."

They both snort-laughed. "No idea what Herr Peck is trying, there," admitted Gail. "They've been horrible."

And Holly couldn't understand why. "It doesn't make sense. You're a total catch. You're funny, smart, talented… You have a cool job."

"And I'm hot as hell," Gail added.

"That too, yeah." There was a pause after Holly said that. Shit. Was she not supposed to say anything?

"Question. What's the social ettiequte for telling another girl she's hot?"

Holly bubbled a laugh. "What?"

"I mean, if I tell a guy he looks good, it's pretty much _always_ taken as an in-your-pants kinda comment. But girls kinda default to 'no homo' with that stuff. Does it change when you're a lesbian?"

That was one of the cool things about Gail. She'd just ask that stuff, without being ashamed of not knowing the answer. "Yeah. No homo… That's what God said before he gave men a prostate," Holly muttered.

Gail laughed. "That's good! I'm gonna use that one on my idiot roommates." She grinned.

"Why do you live with them?"

Groaning, Gail sunk into the couch. "I needed to move out and Nick… Eh. I was tired of being this sad, broken, girl living at home."

They'd somehow moved into more serious territory apparently. This was probably related to why Gail had nightmares on painkillers and didn't like sleeping in the dark. And ... You walked into someone's life with a lot of history. Yours and theirs. People were allowed to have their own history.

Taking a deep breath, Holly exhaled it slowly.

"You know what's great about us?"

"We like tequila?"

Holly smiled. "We tell each other stuff." As Gail looked nervous, Holly added, "And we don't have to." Now Gail looked confused. "I mean you don't have to tell me everything just because we're friends, Gail."

"Oh." Gail frowned a little. "I don't like shared experiences."

"What? Like movies?"

"Theaters. Movies are cool, theaters are gross."

Making a face, Holly took a long swing of her beer. "Yes, yes they are. What about things like comic cons?"

"Oh god, nerd central. And worse, dorks and dweebs."

Holly huffed, indignantly. "Those are my people."

Gail snorted. "Are not. You are smart, sexy, and funny as hell, Stewart. But you don't dress up like Captain Nerd from..." Holly trailed off. "Oh my god! You fucking cosplay!"

Protesting, Holly held up a hand. "I may dress up now and then but-"

"Photos! Tell me you have photos! I have to see this."

"Hell no, Peck!" There was a moment and they both launched for Holly's phone. Gail got it first. "Give me that back! I'm not telling you the passcode!" She reached around Gail's body to get at her phone, but the unathletic woman was doing a great job of keep away.

Squirming away, Gail pushed Holly aside and all but danced around the coffee table. "Like I can't guess your passcode." She stuck her tongue out and Holly was horrified to hear her phone unlock.

"Gail, I swear to god, if you read my texts, I will kill you!"

Gail rolled her eyes. "Sexting some hot chick? Oh! Dr. Stewart, are there nudes here?" She tapped on the screen and scrolled and then froze. "Woah."

Oh Jesus. Holly covered her face. "Look, the Star Trek thing was a dare."

"Screw the Trek, hello Slave Leia." Gail turned the phone and Holly felt mortified. She didn't look. "That's you. And so is the Betty Page shot. You should put that up on Grindr! Wait. No. That's dudes. Is there a lesbian version?"

Holly nodded. "Scissr."

"Seriously?" Gail laughed and tossed the phone back into Holly's lap. "You're hot as hell, though, Holly. Why the hell are you single?"

Groaning, Holly changed her passcode. "I don't know." She eyed Gail. "How did you guess my passcode?"

"Your birthday is a shitty code. Also please don't use your parents' birthdays. Or your address. Or the last four digits of your phone number."

Holly scowled and tapped the code again. After staring for a moment, she tapped in a four digit string. 8727. Let's see Peck guess that one.

"Why do I even talk to you?" Holly huffed at Gail, but she smiled. Talking to Gail was one of the highlights of her days right now.

* * *

Waking up to hear Chloe belting out 'I kissed a girl and I liked it' was not on Gail's favorite ways to wake up. And it had been the first night in a long time she hadn't had a nightmare. The first night since breaking up with Nick. Not that it was his fault she couldn't sleep. Damn it. Fucking Perik.

"The taste of her cherry Chapstick..."

Gail grabbed her pillow and covered her face, muffling her scream of anger.

What the hell had she been dreaming about anyway?

There had been the cottage in winter, with snow and ice and a fire in the fireplace. And Gail had actually heard the wind whipping around her and making her shiver. But more than that, there was someone lying on a bearskin rug in front of the fire. Toned and fit, with long legs and dark eyes, looking up at her with what Gail would only call a 'come hither' expression.

And the only thing covering Holly was an unbuttoned, white shirt.

Oh right.

Her face burned red. Shit. She'd been having a sex dream about Holly fucking Stewart.

"It felt so wrong, it felt so right, don't mean I'm in love tonight."

Damn it!

"Shut the hell up, Chloe! I have a taser in here!"

Because not only was stupid Chloe singing that stupid, opportunistic song, but Gail's dream had predominantly featured herself kissing a girl. Kissing Holly. And unlike real-Holly, who had just pressed her lips to Gail's, dream-Holly had been a hell of a lot more forward. So had dream-Gail for that matter. Jesus frog jumping Christ, there had been a lot more than just kissing! And god it was good.

Fuck. What was it she told the stupid therapist? Oh, right, she wasn't switching teams. Crap.

Gail really didn't give a shit about kissing girls. The more she chatted with Holly about it, the more lesbianism seemed like a fuckton of a better idea than dating me. She hated people, equally, and it wasn't like Gail was unfamiliar to the idea. She totally got how checking out a hot woman could make her blood race around and throb in some of the best ways.

But. Holly was her friend. And if Gail had learned anything in the last four years, it was that friends were in short supply. True friends. It was really Holly and Traci, and that was it. Even Dov… Yeah, no.

For a moment, Gail pondered the idea of kissing Traci. Ew. Well. That was a good question. What about … Nope, she was not even going to try thinking about McNally. Slowly, Gail worked her way down the list of women she knew. Then she delved into the various actresses.

Anna Silk? Totally. Ditto Zoe Pamer. She had that cute, scientist vibe that Holly had. That kind of nerdy, awkward, adorkable expression of amusement and humor. Gail grinned, thinking about that dorky smile Holly got when she was pulling Gail's leg. Holly, who listened to everything Gail said and didn't judge her for it.

Shit. The last thing she needed was to screw up everything with Holly because she was having some weird crush on her. Gail rolled over and pressed her face into the mattress, hauling the pillow on top of her head.

The door knocked.

"Go away," she growled.

Chloe, very soft and quiet, cleared her throat. "I made coffee."

Gail hesitated. On the one hand it was coffee. On the other, it was Chloe.

"And cinnamon rolls."

Okay. That did it. Gail shoved her pillow off, rolled out of bed, and pulled on her robe. "You may live," she informed Chloe breezing past her into the kitchen.

"You look like ass. So does Dov."

"Bite me, Snow White." Gail and Dov had been on a special case, watching a building for guns and gangs. It was awesome, but it had sucked up her nights. She hadn't even seen Holly in days thanks to work.

Maybe that was why her subconscious was filling in Holly for sexy times. She wasn't getting laid either. Gail grimaced and sipped the coffee.

"The coffee isn't that bad," complained Chloe.

"News flash, Dork Queen, the world doesn't revolve around you." Gail took another sip and didn't comment on the taste of the coffee. It was pretty damn good though. The shuffling from the couch made her look over at the sleep tousled hair of Chris Diaz. "Hey, moocher, you going to start paying rent?"

Dov snorted. "That's rich, coming from you."

"He's sleeping on our couch, Dov. And that funky smell was all Diaz."

With a yawn, Chris asked, "How come you're not mad at Chloe? She's here, like, all the time?"

"She feeds me. You start cooking again, we'll talk." There had been some time when Chris made muffins. Though reflecting on that day was not a bright, shining moment. Ugh.

Chris was affable as ever, though. "I could sleep with you—"

"No," snapped Gail, snarling. "Everyone gets one breakup. You picked Dov over me, cope."

Right away, Dov held up his hands. "You're not sleeping in my room."

As the boys bantered about that, Gail had a serious thought. Sleeping on the couch was just not sustainable. And she wasn't serious, at all, about making Chris move out. He was pretty cool in his own way. But he was never getting back up in her business again.

Gail leaned back and studied the apartment. How could three people who didn't sleep with each other fit in there?

"Earth to Gail. Your phone is ringing."

She looked up at Dov. "Get the hell out of my room!"

"Hey, I'm not the one with Slave Leia as Lunchbox's photo. Who's Lunchbox?"

Shit. Gail held a hand out, imperiously. "Phone!" Rolling his eyes, Dov handed it over and she tapped to answer. "Hi, my roommates are assholes."

The rich laughter of Holly Stewart came across the line. "Hello to you too, sunshine. I know it's early, but I just got two tickets to a basketball game tonight."

"Yeah, I don't really do sports." Gail picked up her coffee and went back to her bedroom, pointedly ignoring her roommates.

"Oh come on. This time it really won't kill you."

"Even if I could go watch sweaty men running around, which I have no idea why _you_ like it, I have to work."

There was actual disappointment in Holly's voice. "Again?"

"Crime doesn't actually go off the clock, doc." Gail kicked her bedroom door closed and had the delight of hearing Dov curse.

"Did you slam a door in your roommate's face?"

"My bedroom is off limits to the Dork King." She yawned. "Is that your only reason to calm me at ass crack o'clock? Sports?"

"Well I was going to sweeten the pot with dinner."

"My dinner is bound to be at 1am in a car with Dov."

Holly laughed again. "How healthy. I feel like I should send you a salad."

Gail grinned and sat on her bed. "I'm going to be in an unmarked car."

"Oh. A delivery would defeat the purpose of surveillance."

"Yeah, kinda." She stifled a yawn.

"Oh, nice," laughed Holly.

"Bite me. I've been getting three hours of sleep if I'm lucky."

"That's not healthy. After you're done, we should do something."

A small thrill ran through Gail and she kicked herself mentally. Bad hormones. You were not allowed to have a 'thing' for your friend. "Sure, whatever," she said as casually as she possibly could.

"Okay. Call me when you're free?"

"Sure thing." There was an awkward moment before Holly laughed, called her insane, and hung up. Gail groaned and dropped her phone onto her bed. This sucked.

She was not allowed to have an inappropriate, misplaced, crush on her only actual friend. Sighing, she sipped her coffee. Option one was to avoid the hell out of Holly. Gail didn't like that idea. Option two was to ignore the fact that she was having feelings. That one was practically a Peck special. Option three...

Okay so that was the big issue. Option three was to deal with her shit. Option three meant talking, to someone or another, about how she felt. Because Gail had a creeping feeling that her dream was indicative of more than just a screwy libido. She was no stranger to being turned on by women. This felt different.

Gail picked her phone back up and thumbed through the photos. She'd sent herself the somewhat racy photos of Holly, telling herself they were blackmail material. Looking at Slave Leia Holly, posing with a smirk, Gail felt a heat low in her center. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. This was bad. This was not just a misplaced crush. This was want. And what was worse, it was a hell of a lot more heady than what she'd felt about Nick or Chris.

Option three it had to be. Gail sighed and called her therapist. Not the department one, and not the one her mother picked. No, she called the one she'd found on her own and seen sporadically. "I'd like to make an appointment with Dr. Carson," she said the moment the phone picked up.

"Is this an emergency?" The nurse was astute.

"No." Well... It wasn't a time sensitive one. "I'm a patient. Gail Peck."

There was the sound of typing. "Ms. Peck. We haven't seen you since ... October?"

Not since the Perik interview. "I'm aware. Dr. Carson said I should call if I had any issues."

"We have an opening today."

"No can do. Thursday?" The bust was supposed to be done by then.

"Oh. Yes. Four PM?"

"Yeah, great. Thanks." Gail hung up and yawned, lying back on her bed. If she was lucky, the fleeting fancy would pass. If she wasn't... Maybe he could help with the other issue. After all, it was getting pretty annoying to sleep with a light on.

It was time to talk about her shit.

* * *

"Princess, I need you to earn your keep."

Chloe looked up from her book and stared at Gail. "Me?"

"Well, as high pitched as Dov's voice is, yes, you. Come here."

She frowned and looked at the blonde, who was standing in the weird niche 'breakfast nook' of the apartment. "Oookay." Chloe put her book down and walked over. "What am I doing?"

"We're moving this table into the living room."

"What? Why?"

"Because I said we are?"

Spontaneous rearrangement usually was a sign of a bad breakup. But Nick and Gail had been broken up for ages now. Weeks— No, months. Nick had moved on to Andy, and Gail was … Well Chloe wasn't actually sure at all as to what Gail was doing. Most nights she wasn't hanging out with them anymore.

Contemplating this, Chloe let herself be gang pressed into moving furniture. First the table and then they emptied the bookcase in there and put everything in the living room. Finally they cleaned the whole little room, top to bottom. Which was officially weird.

Just as Chloe worked up the courage to ask what the heck was going on, the doorbell rang. "Hot damn." Gail opened the door and ushered in the delivery men. "Over there."

Furniture. "Gail, what's going on?"

But Gail ignored her, signing a paper and then directing the men as to where she wanted various things. The bed frame and dresser took up pretty much all of the space. There was enough room to move around, but it was a small little cave of a room. As soon as the men were gone, Gail vanished into her room and started hauling her suitcases over.

And it all clicked. Gail was, voluntarily, moving into the weird alcove room. She was giving Chris his room back. Chloe smiled and, without a word, went into Gail's room and found all her clothes lying on the bed, still with their hangers. Taking an armload, Chloe carried them in and hung them up.

They worked in silence, moving everything over, rearranging, putting Gail's things on the bookshelves (which Gail kept moving around), and then, finally, they started to muscle the safe from Gail's room.

That had been a surprise to Chloe. Who the hell kept a gun safe in their bedroom? A Peck, clearly. The gun safe weighed more than both of them together and after trying to rock it, Chloe finally figured out to put it on a towel and use that to tug it into place.

By the time the boys were home, they were sweaty and tired, but Gail was moved out of her old room and had nearly everything up in her new one.

"What the hell happened?"

"Gail moved," explained Chloe, greeting him with a kiss.

Gail made a face. "Ew. New rules. No one goes in my room. And no sucking face either."

Ignoring the new rule, Chris poked his head into Gail's room. "Hey. You fixed the door?" He slid it back and forth until Gail shoved his face.

"Rules. Abide or die." She slid the door closed and they all heard a snap of a lock.

Dov squinted. "That was new furniture."

Bobbing her head, Chloe tugged him over to Chris' room. "We left the bed and dresser."

"Wow. Wow that is ..." Chris was flabbergasted. "I should thank her."

"I wouldn't," cautioned Chloe. "She's in a mood."

She was getting better at understanding Gail. Yes, the blonde was closed off and intentionally isolated herself. Yes, she shoved people away and tried to act like they didn't hurt her. But she was hurt. Hurting. Gail had the heart of someone who had been emotionally abused. And yet she wouldn't roll over on anyone. She was loyal.

The whole Nick thing for example. Whatever happened, Nick had left Gail standing alone in the rain. But when Chloe tried to ask about it, Gail just shrugged and said it happened. For someone who could be as cruel as Gail, it was practically a heartwarming moment.

And it told Chloe how much Gail was hurt.

"She can't still be upset about Nick," said Dov, dismissively.

Chloe poked Dov in the ribs. "If you want to thank her, Chris, buy her dinner."

"Awesome! Chloe, ask he if she wants Chinese, on me. I'll move my stuff in. Oh! And I'll use that desk for my computer."

"What computer?" Dov laughed and helped Chris move his things.

Leaving the boys, Chloe knocked on Gail's door. "Gail? Chris wants to buy Chinese for dinner. You in?"

To her surprise the door opened and Gail was dressed nicer. Somewhat. She had on a leather jacket, tight jeans, and a cute top. "Nope. Going out."

"Oh. Did your mom set up another date?"

Gail narrowed her eyes. "No." Her phone chimed and Gail smiled. She actually smiled at the phone. "Gotta go." And with that, the blonde was out the door. "Chris! Buy dinner tomorrow."

Chloe frowned and stepped out to try and see who was picking Gail up. The blonde cheerfully danced around the car, laughing at something. It was a really nice car. Nicer than anyone she knew had. Whoever it was, the driver made Gail laugh again, and then they drove off.

"Hey, Dov. Is Gail seeing someone?"

Her boyfriend looked surprised. "No. She has some friend she hangs out with a lot though. Some chick. Dark hair. I saw 'em shopping."

That was interesting. Gail had a friend. "That's good," decided Chloe. "She should bring her friend to the Penny on Friday."

"Yeah? I'll ask." Dov tossed the blankets from the couch into Chris' room. "You want to get something to eat?"

Chloe hesitated. The mystery of what was changing in Gail could wait a while longer. At least she had someone to talk to.

* * *

 _There you have it. Some rising sexual tension, and random tidbits like when Gail started going back to therapy, how Chris got his room back, and just how long had Gail been thinking about Holly like that._


End file.
